Mar. 25th, 2017

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Once everyone has been warned about the hallucinatory flu situation, there's really not much a person can do but wait it out. At least, that's what Feuilly has been telling himself. So he's been bringing work down into the main room--books, sketchpad--and trying very hard to Make Sensible Use of the time...while mostly straining to keep half an eye at all times on Harry-who-thinks-he's-Ashley. And while ignoring a headache and a twinge in the back of his throat. And while managing the dogs.

Somewhere amongst all this Feuilly finds himself sitting on one of the couches by the fireplace. He's absolutely not going to lie down, because that way lies the danger of napping. But he might put his feet up. And he might rest his head on the cushion for a little while.

And his eyes might close in spite of all his best intentions; and he might begin to snore, just a little, the open book lying on his chest.

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Feuilly

March 2017

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