Susannah sat up in her colonial-style mauve bed and sighed. Justinian was gone again. Why didn't he love her?

She stuck out her wrinkly, veiny, pale arm onto her dark wooden bedside table with clawed feet, and fumbled around for her glasses. She finally felt them, and, grabbing onto the little, slippery plastic nosepiece, promptly dropped them on the floor below her. She sighed, and tried to read the glowing green numbers on the fifteen year old digital alarm clock to no avail. "Henry?" her strident voice called out.

A groggy "Yes, Mom?" echoed down the hall.

"I dropped my glasses. What time is it?"

"Uh– it's four twenty seven."

"Oh. okay."

Where does that cat go? she wondered, rolling back over. Her arthritic shoulder made a popping noise, and pain shot down her arm and up into her body. She ignored it, placing her pink-curler coated head back down on the firm pillow and promptly, in her usual no nonsense fashion, falling back to sleep.

The End

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