I missed posting Chapter 4 last Friday due to the craziness of Christmas. Sorry about that.
Dinner for one, as usual. Not that a pint of Friendly’s black raspberry ice cream could appropriately be termed dinner. It was more a psychological balm to soothe my frayed nerves. I’d pay for it later; I always did, but I couldn’t be moved to care at the moment.
I couldn’t be moved to do a whole lot of anything it seemed. I’d come home and immediately curled up in my favorite green armchair in front of the fireplace, detouring only to kick my shoes off by the back door. The chair’s dark fabric cocooned me, but the comfort it normally provided was nowhere in evidence. I fussed and fidgeted trying to find some solace in its softness.
The events of the day had thrown my mind in turmoil and I wished I had somebody to talk it over with. There were only a limited number of people I considered friends and none of them could help me sort through the jumbled mess that was my brain.