12.20.2015
The curtains drew themselves back as a soft tone let out of the alarm clock. Light streamed in and the sound grew louder as it played longer. Tern rolled onto his side, slid his hand out from under the cover, and tapped on the alarm clock to snooze it. He rolled back over to face away from the light and rested for a few more minutes.
When the tone sounded again for the snooze alarm, he rolled over to turn it off and then lay facing the window. Snowflakes danced on the air outside and turned to water the minute they came to rest on the window.
He slowly made his way out of bed and into the restroom. Tern lay a hand to his neck, which still felt stiff. He relieved himself while sleepily swaying over the toilet, before taking some more ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet above the sink. He lowered his head to the tap to drink a few gulps and wash the pills down. His head ached a bit too, but he wondered if that was related to his neck.
Tern shut the bathroom door, grabbed a towel from the small linen closet behind that door, and then went back into his bedroom. The light was not so harsh on his eyes anymore, and he watched the street for a minute.
Cars ambled by and people did too on the sidewalk or on bikes on their small avenues. Everyone bundled up in winter gear, even though many had their jackets and coats thrown open thanks to the radiant sunlight.
He turned around and pulled off his pants and then shirt. As he got to his boxers, he saw a slip of paper peeking out from under his desk. Pausing, he bent down to pick it up. Large letters at the top said “Christy Granthous”, and then a phone number and email address.
So she had left her information. Tern felt relieved. He couldn’t clearly remember Christy saying goodbye or leaving. But this was a good sign. She hoped he’d call again. And, Tern hoped, it was to say more than just that he was feeling better. Smiling he sat the paper down on his night stand, stripped naked, wrapped the towel around his waist, and headed into the bathroom for his shower.