Return To Flight

“We should be at your parental home,” the panther says, pressing a heavy paw down on my chest. “You’re not in any state to fend for yourself in the wild.”
Rubbing my eyes, I sit up in bed and look over at my watch. 4.55pm. Time to get up from my afternoon sleep.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Well, after this tramadol I’ll be fine anyway.”
“There’s no way that you can possibly do all those things,” he says, resting his huge heavy head in my lap.
“All I have to do is to unload the dishwasher and then make supper, eat it and go back to bed,” I say, taking a sip of the water on my bedside table.
“What about a bath?” The panther says. “You don’t smell very nice. And you’re looking horribly fat and…”
“All that will have to wait till tomorrow,” I say. “The drain was removed yesterday, this is my first day back in the flat. Need to be kind to myself and just do the absolute minimum.”
Looking over at the panther, I see that he’s curled himself up in an enormous black coil and he’s sleeping again. Throwing the covers back, I make my way to the kitchen…


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