He'd thought I'd heard the alarm go off.
But, I didn't.
"Hey, Babe," he said, in his morning voice, "You'd better get up."
My eyelids opened, slowly, as the rest of me tried to make sense of my surroundings;
the taste of bad breath on my tongue.
I managed to speak a long, drawn out, single word.
"Whaaaaaaaaat?" I asked, confused.
But, before he could answer, my reality slowly sank in -
there would be no shower . . . . . . today.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"7:15," he responded.
Forty-five minutes PAST my wake-up hour.
Annoyance quickly replaced confusion.
"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked, as I haphazardly stumbled out of bed.
"I thought you'd heard the alarm go off," he answered.
As I attempted to steer myself toward the bathroom, I thought,
I stood in front of the sink, surveying the night's damage.
"Could be worse," I thought.
I turned on the faucet, and filled my cupped hands with water;
the shower, looming, in the corner of my eye.
And, as the warm wetness spilled from my hands,
across my face . . . . . . I let it go.
Just like that.
I let it go.
But, I didn't.
"Hey, Babe," he said, in his morning voice, "You'd better get up."
My eyelids opened, slowly, as the rest of me tried to make sense of my surroundings;
the taste of bad breath on my tongue.
I managed to speak a long, drawn out, single word.
"Whaaaaaaaaat?" I asked, confused.
But, before he could answer, my reality slowly sank in -
there would be no shower . . . . . . today.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"7:15," he responded.
Forty-five minutes PAST my wake-up hour.
Annoyance quickly replaced confusion.
"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked, as I haphazardly stumbled out of bed.
"I thought you'd heard the alarm go off," he answered.
As I attempted to steer myself toward the bathroom, I thought,
"What PART of me lying STILL in the bed, NOT MOVING or
MAKING A SOUND
made you THINK that I had HEARD the ALARM ? ? ?" I stood in front of the sink, surveying the night's damage.
"Could be worse," I thought.
I turned on the faucet, and filled my cupped hands with water;
the shower, looming, in the corner of my eye.
And, as the warm wetness spilled from my hands,
across my face . . . . . . I let it go.
Just like that.
I let it go.
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