Something stirred in her subconscious.
What is wrong with me, tonight?Curled in fetal position, glaring at the orange bright light of alarm clock. 2:45 AM. She groaned forcing herself to the edge of the platform bed. the high thread count of the Egyptian cotton made recognisable as sheet , that was casually thrown over floated swiftly into her lap. Her nudity was immediately exposed to the private audience of inanimate objects amid the massive bedroom suite. The summer's breeze was warm and satisfying,whipping through the fan perched in the window.
A naseating sickness overcame her by whim. Not tonight. I can't deal with this.