The Boyfriend

Oh my goodness, ohmygosh. I have just pulled the blankets and sheets out of the dryer. They are so warm and filling. My arms reach around and squeeze. This bundle is my true love. Their warmth presses against my body, against my face. I hold on tightly and spin around until they are nothing but cold blankets and sheets in my arms that fall to the floor.

It is a like a drug.

In the morning I fluff my comforter and wrap my arms around it.
"Good morning. I am glad you are here."

"Oh! I am so glad you are here!" he said. He kissed my face.

Diving headfirst into bed, pulling the blanket up and around, face under. It's dark underneath. The sheets are still cold. I roll into a ball and wait for the warmth to take over.

The winters in Missouri were so cold then. Ice formed on the inside of my windows. The blankets were so heavy, layers weighing down at night so that you couldn't move, not even a bone. The pulse slowed, then.