It’s only 5pm, but still, wanting a long soak in the tub, Phyllis runs the water until there’s enough to FLOAT in. This should help ABATE the last vestiges of the day’s stress. Immersed in the warm bath, her eyes grow heavy. Soon, she is dreaming, an Alice in Wonderland like scene, or maybe more C.S. Lewis, strolling in the woods, chatting with a friendly SATYR who daintily prances beside her, his TAWNY fur in lovely curls around his face. Before she can sink deeper into the half-waking dream (or into the tub), her phone startles her back to her very inelegant bathroom, with its TACKY decor and even tackier-to-the-touch floor. Drying off her hands, she looks at the caller ID: “Restricted.” Ugh. Is this the doctor, the collection agency, or her mother calling from her office? Wishing she hadn’t brought the dang thing with her into the room, she sighs, heaves herself out of the tub. Grabbing a towel, she waits for the voicemail notification, thinking there’s no point in rushing to get bad news.

Georg’ann

Winter sun moves SOUTH
To TRACK warmth, cat also moves
Sleeps in TACKY chair

Heather