She opened her eyes and couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. She was lying on her side, her cheek pressed against the pillow. Her mouth was slightly open, and it felt dry and cottony.
She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts still clouded in half-sleep. Then she remembered last night. She smiled and let out a soft giggle. She covered her face with her hands and held them there a moment. She rubbed her eyes with her fingers, hard enough that she saw explosions of color behind her eyelids.
She threw the blanket off of her, pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. Her feet touched the bare hardwood floor. It was cold, but her slippers were not nearby.
She stood up and stretched, her arms straight over her head. She bent her body to the right, then the left, then she let her arms drop to her sides. She stepped softly across her room and retrieved her bathrobe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door. She slipped on the robe, opened the door, and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. A pot of coffee was definitely called for.

#1 by Emma West on December 3rd, 2009
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Hmm…Evocative. Makes me think of a Degas. What exactly are you seeking in the form of comment? It’s very small. And it’s a happy moment. With so little every word becomes important.