“Ow!” Minerva dropped the dirt-encrusted wooden crate, with errant nail back down on the table, and sucked her punctured finger. Thank God this day was finally over.

She grabbed a band-aid and covered the puncture wound. It wasn’t the best, but it’d keep her from bleeding all over on the drive home. Minerva stacked up her paperwork and grabbed her keys off the desk as her computer shut down. Another workweek done.

#

Minerva wiped sweat off her forehead as she tried to stop clenching her jaw. Just a few more form letters and this week would be done. She rubbed under her ear where the muscles were spasming. It really was warm upstairs. Had someone turned the heat on today?

Her vision swam and she felt faint. Lack of oxygen? She’d just used her asthma inhaler twenty minutes ago. Minerva felt her pulse racing. Why wouldn’t her jaw quit spasming?