On the first morning, Helen woke shivering on the bathroom mat. She was naked, her knees tucked into her chest. On the second she still had her pyjamas on, but this time she was squashed in a corner of the hall. And on the third she woke under the magnolia, a petal cupping her cheek. Her feet were muddy and when she returned to the house the front door was open. In the afternoon she drove into town and bought a video camera to catch herself sleepwalking . The next day when she played it back she saw no one. Her bed was empty.

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This is a Friday Fictioneers story. 100 (or so) writers writing 100-words (or so) inspired by the picture above (supplied this week by Madison Woods.) Join in or read some more stories.

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Vote for Our Endless Numbered Days in the Edinburgh First Book Prize, and you could win a copy of all 56 books.