Close Enough
She was late again. Well, just running late, not that late--there was a difference. She had tried, really tried--set the alarm, twice: 7 am the first time, then ratcheted it down to 6:30 am, an ungodly hour, but she could do it, this once she could do it, that was her vow, her pledge to self, she could do it. And it worked! The alarm sounded right on time as machines are wont to do--ah, to be as dependable as a machine - another random thought she didn't need just then, but it made her laugh, relaxed her. Her own little private jokes were her salvation--and that thought made her smile, remember the time . . . No! NO! Keep moving! Don't let that thought, that memory, not even a precious or funny memory in. KEEP MOVING! Which is what she was doing. Nearly dressed: both shoes on . . . with matching socks--her favorite, black with a faint outline of butterflies . . . no, no they're not really butterflies, they're pr...
