Lala awoke with her hair as fuzzy as her mind. The bandana was still there, slightly skewed. She felt her ears for the earrings...both still there. Good. The silver hearts had been a gift from her daughter.
When she strethed, the silky sheets slithered comfortably around her body, smelling of lavendar. The dull haze of dawn knocked softly at the windows and Lala didn't want to open her eyes.
Instead she played a game with herself. A game she'd played hundreds of times. The game was called, "Where Am I?" She tried to think how many years it had been since high school when she'd begun asking herself a series of questions. Thirty five? Forty? It always began the same:
"What's the last thing I remember?"
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