this morning #284.

this morning, a citric orange glow shone through the bay window onto her plate of second-rate donuts & “world’s best grandma” mug full of weak coffee. the curtains cast forth soft shadows onto the broken leg stretched out before her, encased in a heavily-autographed pink cast. it’d been quite the long winter ever since a freak mishap ended her ski trip & relegated her to months of cabin fever on the couch. at her age, it was time for her to develop new, safer hobbies anyhow. now that winter was finally over & the cast was almost off, she could cast off her boredom with prize-winning baking or mall walking or whatever thing women her age do for fun. she hadn’t the foggiest idea what that was.