March 5, 2013
Awake. I'm going to miss an incoming, unidentified call because the sleep is still in my voice. In the kitchen, I rinse the chalky residue old coffee from a cup and make a fresh pot. I needed to wake up quickly, because it's just past 5 and the end of the day for HR departments. I'm flailing with the strings on the blinds, as if they were an anxious thought, letting in more fading light. It's Barb, from the home improvement store down the road, sounding quite impressed. I need to catch her before she leaves. I smile. And dial.