Olivia Channon

Pario

The soft click of my laptop closing punctuated my thoughts. My work day had bled into a work night, and I was glad for it to be finished. I placed the computer on the coffee table, and started my nightly routine of checking the doors and turning off the lights on my way to an oblivious dreamland. My steps wove around the cats, who had rustled on my departure from the couch and started a rambling round of hide-and-seek. A brush of fur caught my leg as they ran by, and I flicked off the lights in the kitchen, grabbed the bundle of socks I had thrown down the hallway earlier, and double-checked the bathroom was already dark.