086 - seams
The drugs that Professor Weaver had given him were still having their effect. It was wearing off now, slowly but surely. Yet, Frank still had to make a conscious effort to focus. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision, although it had no effect, as the lack of clarity was not being caused by any physical failing.
Frank stumbled on, with a vague recollection of where it was that he needed to go. "Grand Avenue, Grand," he repeated to himself. Everything he looked at seemed as if it were moving slightly, even though he knew that the objects were in fact stationary. Quickly turning his head from one side to the other, he had learned, was a rather serious offense, as it took several moments for the world to catch up to where his brain felt he was oriented.
Or was it that it took several moments for his brain's orientation to catch up to where the world was? Well, whichever one it was, it was making Frank feel rather sick, and so he tried to keep his head relatively steady and level. He needed to check the street signs. He looked up slowly and deliberately.
"Michigan Avenue, where the hell does that put me?" he asked himself. He tried to remember the map that the professor had shown him. He shut his eyes, to block out as much stimuli as he could. In his thoughts, in his memory, Frank actually felt more comfortable. Things were not all shaky and distorted there, like what he saw through his eyes now. And the only influence of the drugs was the sometimes dull, sometimes sharp pain that they had been causing constantly.
His memory was becoming clearer, and he was able to visualize the map clearly, now. Michigan was two blocks from Grand, and if he continued straight as he was going, he should reach it just fine. Of course, it struck him, then, that he would have to remember the street number. What was it again?
Frank realized he couldn't remember, and that worried him, but he tried to calm himself down. He told himself that he would remember it when it was the time to remember it, after all, he had remembered Grand Avenue, hadn't he? And then he remembered the map, too. The answer will come in time.
His sense of being reassured was suddenly interrupted, along with his mental clarity, by the sound of a truck driving by. Its loud, knocking engine sent a spike into his thoughts, making them feel the same dizziness that his vision did earlier. He opened his eyes. Frank was safe from nothing, not even sounds. He had to carry on.
So he continued on, carefully, as he had done before. The pain came in waves, and while it was less severe now, every once in a while, Frank had a sudden bout of intense agony. It was only a few moments into his two block journey from Michigan to Grand Avenue when one of those sudden pangs occurred.
Frank felt the core of his brain, running down to his spinal cord, as if someone had electrified it. It was horrible, and for a moment Frank could think of nothing else. When he was able to focus on his physical existence again, he was amazed that he was somehow still standing, with all the nausea and pain he was feeling. But he knew that wouldn't last long, and he began to stumble towards anything that he could brace himself against, until the gigantic barb in his brain subsided.
It would be a long two blocks. He wasn't sure he could make it.