Fictional Prose by New Members

A quick glimpse then I look away,
A quick glimpse then she looks away,

whoever gets up first from bed and turns off that ear-busting alarm,
that is inconveniently far from the bed,
has to make breakfast.

tempting as it is to eliminate that deafening sound...
I refuse to lose again,

Besides...

fluffy scrambled eggs with slices of crisp bacon,
with much room on the plate for mushrooms,
sat next to a pair of golden glazed sausages,
all of this ... brought to me in bed,
sounds too delightful to pass up,
...

She pulled away the barcode from her wrist. The plastic bracelet took a while to break.  It had been hours, it had been days in fact since she had last noticed it, but it had been there, witnessing her pains, ever since she'd joined that weary cast of warded patients waiting to be well.

After she'd got home, and turned her key in the door, and seen the usual mess just as she'd left it, and charged her dead phone, and boiled her stale kettle, she'd spent an unmeasuredly peaceful afternoon soaking the hospital away from her skin, from her hair, from her soul.  She had found her bed...