Room 227, Sunday Morning

Though she'd been up for a while already, Natalie was yet to call her mother. It wasn't stalling. It was still fairly early to be calling anyone on a Sunday morning.

Except she knew her mother would be up already, and would have been for quite a while now. She was probably even done with reading the Sunday paper, thick though it was. Maybe by now she was already getting started on what work she'd set aside for the day, if Natalie's father hadn't managed to convince her it was a day for fun. Even if it was the Adams version therof.

So, maybe Natalie was stalling. Maybe she had reason to. She hadn't been able to shake the odd feeling of the week, not completely. And she wasn't sure whether talking to her mother would help or just make it worse. So here she was. Stalling, reading a book in bed, propped back against her pillows.

She'd make the call later.

[Door closed, post open, I might be a little slow on account of working on one last paper, gah spring term just be over already.]