My belly swells with food; Cajun, pizza, candy, topped with the exhaustion of travel. In a strange bed, on top of starchy hotel sheets, I feel lethargic, as though I'll never move again, and I flash back to when I was little.
Greedy childish hands not knowing when to stop, filling to bursting until I felt sick. I crawled upstairs, to the cool undisturbed, and fell onto my favorite couch. Thick, hard, floral swirls over stiffly packed cushions, meant for show, but the fabric was cool and steady against my feverish cheek.
I wonder what happened to that couch.
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