Mrs Winslow s Daughter
I awoke with a terrible need to use the bathroom. If I had still lived in my nice little house on the cull-de-sac, I would have gotten right up. Since I no longer lived there, and since the distance from my bed to the bathroom was about twenty-five feet of bone chilling cold floor, I lingered in the bed. Coal stoves are pretty to watch and cheap to run, but they tend to leave a house cold as hell first thing in the morning. If I could make it as far as the bathroom, I would be all right. In...