I'd kill for some clean sheets.
Fresh-out-of-the-dryer soft-cotton bedsheets made of the highest thread count possible.
And one of those foamy pillows that you sink into like those fluffy clouds in childhood pictures of Heaven.
"And a pony," I said to Mal. He just opened his mouth in
(more)a huge kitty-yawn then promptly fell back asleep.
I looked at the feral feline who'd adopted me a few months ago, although a pony would have been alot more useful than Mal, I did have a soft spot for the cat.
Also, he never gave me any lip, unlike the Kid.
A strong gust of wind blew though the room as the cold rain outside began to turn into sleet pinging off the windows.
This was my first winter living in the tower, my first winter since the end of the world actually and I was questioning my choice of Home Sweet Home.
An abandoned Fire Tower is a great heat-beater come summertime but I hadn't been warm since October. The winds coming in off the Atlantic Ocean seemed never-ending and there weren't enough blankets in Cape May to keep me warm.
I wish I could sleep like a cat instead of this nightly tossing and turning. As tired as I was my brain wouldn't stop so I started counting up the things I'd wish for if I had a magic genie but all I could think of right now was that comforting feeling I used to get sliding inbetween soft cotton.
It's the little things you miss when the world ends.(less)
