Still in her chair approaching year end and she wanted to be his blanket. Hours peeled across the day, time was moving though she wasn’t.

She appeared to have put herself on pause. It was a limbo where she breathed in and out. She remembered the shape of this place from many years ago, from a time when all she could do was process thoughts. And she thought about his blanket.

Maybe that was all she could do for now. If there ever was a time when she knew she was more then flesh and blood, when she knew she was a soul in human form, then it was now.

Now, when she felt the restriction of her edges, when everything inside her yearned to reach him. Now, when she sat up late in the corner of her lounge that they knew well and she wondered if he was on his sofa trying to reach her? Were they somehow together now, in this second at 22:40 as she typed?

She still had a body, but it was only an encasement, while everything else, the very essence of her, left her form and wrapped itself around him.

It was 22:44 and she was his blanket.