the open

I knocked on the door quickly at forehead level and fumbled with the key, stepping right past her as she opened it for me. Hand over my mouth I crossed to the bathroom, bent in half semi-automaton and wretched into the toilet three times.

Holding one sleeve against my lips, I turned to her through the still open door. There was a glistening trail on the wrist of my shirt as I let it drop, forehead crumpling. Chin at an angle, she said 'hey, listen,' but I talked over her.

Too much Iron. Or Calcium. I was increasing my trace metals, my voice hoarse and quiet I spat once more at the basin and flushed the swirls of sparkle.

I'll show you something I just found out about, she said. Looking at me blankly, she turned her body away partially as though to indicate a refusal to deal with me entirely, as though street drugs might be a better answer for what happened, or a 40 oz of Longhammer. Library basement, machine experiment. Just follow me in and swipe a card, they are so used to bad responses that they let people through.
She looked back at me and suggested on second thought that I change my shirt. For a moment she really looked, and her eyes wavered. Don't worry, I said leaning toward her slightly and miming a great secret. I know how important what I'm doing is. Speak freely. I was starting to smile again. I felt in my pockets that I didn't have a single card. Sighing 'oh shit', the smile was gone. Instead of commenting she handed me a membership card with her fingertips and held the door.

Do they even have a science department here? I asked her, eyeing the metal latch door she'd led me to.
Corporate law is so simple and straightforward, she intoned. Pressing keys she explained her use of the machine with an eye-checking smile.
Does this work for the bar? I'm listening, I'm just listening, I couldn't help mumbling. She ignored it and I felt my shoulders relax.
The difficulty isn't related to distance, but longer trips seem to settle... so if you overuse the same thread it begins to take more energy to step away from. They keep track of how much energy you use going either way, she pointed to a round scale with a screen of numbers. She waved her key-chain past it, turned to firmly grab my hand, and stepped through.

The heel of her shoe gently spiked the floor, and she smoothed her dark hair with one hand quickly as I crashed onto the floor. I'd arrived somewhat horizontal, having been pulled forward and finding myself on the other side without my legs. Everything below my waist was missing in some other space so that I hit the ground. Then they were back, my legs, and I jumped up as quickly as possible.
I have never seen that she said.
I was too slow I suggested. Digital legs with a wiggle, they caught up with me with a stamp. She gave me a blink, long and slow, Alright I have to get back. See you later.
I don't have....
It's a 15 minute commute.
She was clearly slightly confused as she disappeared.