A Short Story

As a result of this blog, some of my family and friends have suggested that I write a book and get it published. (Very nice of them to say that, but I suspect that’s a lot easier said than done.) As an initial step on an exploratory path towards that, my brother Matt once suggested I write something in the third person to see how it goes. Here’s my first attempt.

She was awake.

She wasn’t sure why she was awake. It was dark, and the house was quiet. No stairs creaking, no toilets flushing, no faucets running, no television blaring, no feet stepping, no dog barking, no husband snoring. Her mind wasn’t racing with things on her to-do list or, worse yet, with things she needed to add to her to-do list. She wasn’t waiting for someone to come home safely. She wasn’t worrying about some problem (major, minor, or imagined) one of them was facing. She didn’t have to go pee.

Then she realized she was warm.

And by the time that realization sunk in, she was very warm.

She flung off the blankets to let the heat escape, and she wondered how much heat it was possible for her body to throw off.

As she lay there, she thought back fondly to the colonoscopy she had had last fall. The time when they had put her under, and her first thought upon waking was “That was the best sleep. Ever.”

As the heat relented, she started to slip back into sleep. Until something pulled her back again.

She was cold.

As she reached for the blankets, she looked forward to a couple of hours of sleep before the next wave hit.

Unless she had to go pee.

I’m not sure this is what my brother had in mind.