Ain't no Passing Craze

Brie surfaced from the smooth bathwater, blinking and shaking the drops from her hair. She was awake now, just barely, and as new to the happenings as a bear in march--it had all continued without her, while she had her own hazy dreams and half-existance. She was losing her part of it all.

I had been ill for nearly a week now, and just after the new job appointment, too. I lift Moose onto my shoulder and survey the room I hadn't realized I was in for so long. It smells like children's Tylenol ($8.35 at the pharmacy, I have betrayed my employer) and sweet toasted lavendar sachets, which I had been making daily at the Root Shop before this time of... flu? It was unclear. All that I remember was my father calming down and bringing water; unexpected relief, and getting up and laying down.

But the city hadn't just stopped because I wasn't in it. I look out the window now, I can see that what I had been waiting for for so long has finally arrived. I need to get out of this room now, today, this week, so that I can be a part of... well, whatever it is, it can wait till after my Great Grains.