Mikaal

23: Mikaal

Roar!

Dalia relaxed at the sound of the purr of her Lancer's sports exhaust, on her way to an appointment at the allergy clinic Simon had found for her. She always found cruising in her baby therapeutic, the loud hum of the engine like meditation music to her ears.

"Ooh," she said aloud while stationary at a set of traffic lights, in awe at the sight of the blue ocean in the distant horizon, recognising it was one of her favourite places in the world - Scarborough Beach. She glanced at her Apple Watch out of habit to check the time, before returning her eyes to the estimated time of arrival according to her Maps app currently open on her iPhone, that she had mounted against the air vent to the left of her steering wheel.

"Good," she said to herself, her attempt to be extra organised that day due to driving to an unfamiliar place paying off, seeing that she would be at least 20 minutes early - meaning she could afford a quick stop at the beach. The beautiful weather, a preview of spring more than it was winter, was visible through her car's tinted windows - the cotton wool painted skies above pristine dark blue waters beckoned her closer.

Although she wasn't a strong swimmer, Dalia had always loved the beach, especially Scarborough, that was an uninterrupted stretch of water as far as the eyes could see. You could continuously walk along the golden shores and find yourself at the next beach, Trigg on the right while Brighton was even closer on the left. Scarborough Beach was also popular both among locals and tourists because the dining and leisure choices were plentiful and only a short walk away.

As Dalia approached her favourite parking spot near the barbecue area, strangely, she began feeling dizzy. After moving her car into a free bay, she squinted her eyes, fighting the faint feeling overcoming her. She touched her stomach, remembering she had skipped breakfast that morning.

'I better get some food in my tummy,' she thought to herself, locking her car and pulling her feet in a slow pace along the gravel floor, heading towards the collection of cafes and eateries across the road from the beach.

After grabbing a small tub of potato wedges from a fish and chip joint, Dalia made her way back in the direction of the crashing waves enjoyed by surfers in the background.

"Ugh," she said with a groan, her mind spacing out, the dizziness returning. She peered at the scene before her through glazed eyes - it felt like she was looking through a stained window. She finally found an empty bench overlooking the ocean and sat down, at first gripping the rough, seat edge, taking deep breaths in hopes that the extra oxygen would combat the lightheadedness she was feeling.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of the small, cardboard bucket she still held in her left hand. She leaned back against the wooden slats of the bench and forced her oddly limp, right hand to grab a chip and take a bite - the crunchy exterior, the herb seasoning combined with the moist centre were a delight to her tongue, generating some much needed energy.

"Oh crap," she said, realising the time, forcing her legs to bring her back to her parked car. She walked slowly, her right arm raised in front of her body for a sense of balance, the faint feeling still lingering in the background.

Thankfully, the clinic was only about five minutes away, Dalia arriving just in the nick of time. Before leaving her car, she stuffed a few more wedges into her mouth for the energy, a feeling of trepidation rising within her at the thought that she may be getting a needle today. She scolded herself internally for not having had a proper breakfast earlier, remembering the time she had had a flu shot on a empty stomach and had almost fainted! She forced another bite of a roughly cut wedge the size of her thumb, ignoring the queasy feeling of her stomach that was the likely outcome of having greasy food first thing in the morning. It was too late to regret her unhealthy breakfast choice.