#92

Finally, it was cold and warm at the same time. Finally, she had slept for more than a few hours. Finally, she had fallen asleep reading a book that was very sad, and made her feel sad, but not because she could relate.

The orchids still looked hearty. She couldn’t help notice them as she pulled on her clothes that morning, how the little punks derided her confidence with their magenta sneers. She thought was she doing better. She thought she had made great progress. She thought the orchids should be dead by now, or at least limp.

Perhaps it was a good thing that no one really had control of time, the units of measurement being arbitrary from the start. Still, there are rules, she told herself. Her father had taught her never to take shortcuts, to do the job completely. So, putting on a jacket for the first time since the summer heat had descended months ago, she winked at the orchids and said “smell ya later,” as she left to go start the day.