Closed for the Season

This morning dawned clear and cold, as the January sunlight tried to peek through the gaps in our blinds. Realizing it was Saturday, I pulled the covers around me a little tighter and tried to drift back to sleep. I was faintly aware that Bob and Ray, (our charming feline children), were chasing one another up and down the stairs, and I gave serious consideration to yelling at them to stop, but that would have required getting out of the warm bed, venturing out into the cold room to open the door, summoning the energy to chastise them ... and, well, I just chose to ignore their exuberance and concentrate on going back to sleep. Of course, the harder I tried to drift off, the more my mind churned.

I have been feeling a little unsettled lately. Perhaps it's leftover stress from my mother's heart attack just before Christmas, or maybe it is simply the winter blahs, but as I turned and tried to burrow deeper beneath the blankets I imagined myself hanging from a very steep precipice: at any moment something would happen that would ultimately decide my fate.

Ray began mewling outside the bedroom door; and sighing, I rose to greet the day ...