I've stripped the bed. Shaken the sheets and slumped those fat pillows like tired tongues out the window for air and sun to get to. I've let the mattress lounge in its blue-striped dressing gown. I've punched and fluffed. I've billowed and snapped.
Dust motes somersault and spin.
I'm alone again. There were days when she was very happy without knowing why. She was happy to be alive and breathing, when her whole being seemed to be one with the sunlight, the color, the odors, the luxuriant warmth of some perfect Southern day. She liked then to wander alone into strange and unfamiliar places. She discovered many a sunny, sleepy corner, fashioned to dream in.