She hisses her reminders, blows a chilly wind over my chest with her breath. “Almost 62, now what will you do??” She chants over and over.
She is wearing me out with her relentless chatter. I get up early, run a hot bath, trying to drown out the icy hands she presses into my heart. I sneak out of my dark house, leaving Lia snoring in her crate, dreaming the morning dreams that I never make time for anymore.