Good Wishes by Sandy McIntosh

I felt her hands on my face. 

 It was the middle of the night. 
“You’re burning up,” she said. 
“Would you like a cold towel 
for your sunburn?” 


“Thanks”, I told her. 
“But don’t get up. I’ll be okay” 


“It’s no trouble,” she answered.
“I've just got one for myself. See?”


I looked over
but no towel anywhere.


“I'll get one for you, too,” 
she sighed. “They’re so refreshing.” 
Then she rolled over
and began to snore. 


         ----for Barbara.
                                                      from FORTY-NINE GUARANTEED WAYS TO ESCAPE DEATH
                                                                                                                                                A year at the table - day 159 / slightly everything
About Sandy


                                                                                                          copyrightⓒ2007 by Sandy McIntosh