Richard peered around the corner at me and stood silently watching. I was spraweled out on the couch, curled in a blanket with my stuffed dog named Junket. Junket was my mothers toy as a child and was then passed to me. By that time she had already been careworn and now her head was barely attached. I was intently watching Pooh Grand Adventure.
I paid no attention to my imaginary companion as I reached for a tissue.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Rufus meowed up at him in a friendly greeting and rubbed against his legs. He smiled quietly at the cat and returned his attention to me. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked again.
“Celebrating,” I answered through my tears.
“It’s my birthday,” I answered.
“Seems an odd way to celebrate your birthday,” he answered amused.
“Well, I’m odd,” I said.
Richard shrugged and retired to the den where I heard his typewriter clicking away.
Authors Note: Today is not really my birthday. This is just a story.