Not quite what I was expecting but enjoyable none
the less, with a dash of whodunnit thrown in.
God, being awake was almost as bad as trying to
sleep. She groaned miserably and dragged a comb
through her unruly shower-damp hair.
She felt an overwhelming sense of grief and loss
for someone that might have been, still might be,
maybe never really was. She sighed, annoyed with
herself for being so pathetic. Surely, after all
this time, she ought to have the knack of saying
what she meant? Or was talking to men something
else that had been forgotten along with the finer
steps of the mating dance?