The Medium

I ran up the stairs to my bedroom and locked the door then leaned back against it. I breathed deeply to regain my composure but it didn't help. My veins pumped with my rushing blood and my heart pounded. I couldn't remember the last time I'd argued with Celia on such a scale. Our disagreements were usually petty affairs-who was going to wear the crimson bonnet or whether the grocer's son would be completely bald by the age of twenty-five (I said yes, she thought not). We rarely needed to raise our voices.

I checked my small pocket watch that I'd left on the dressing table after changing clothes. It was half past one. Only half an hour until Jacob arrived. Fortunately I hadn't told Celia about his pending visit. This way I could speak to him alone, in peace, in my room.

Thirty minutes suddenly seemed like a long time.