#2 – tranquil

The tranquil notes of the Tibetan singing bowl cut through the alcohol fug better than any alternative jangling alarm.

Ingrid moaned, but softly because she was certainly not one to draw attention to herself. She raised her head an inch above the very plush velvet pillow and dared to squint open one eye. She was rewarded by a light that stabbed its way through her pupil and happily hammered away at her cerebral cortex.

It must be Wednesday.

Ingrid snapped her eyelid closed so she only sensed...