Eliza Riddle's Boredom

Eliza Riddle brushed her hair in silence long silver strands, sleepy, floating to the floor Her horn rimmed glasses read the book next to her bed without her for boredom overtook her when she thought she guessed the ending. Eliza did her stretches before sleep one... two... three... in a long nightgown and silk slippers with silly pom-poms on them She methodically filled her sipping glass with tap water from the sink and set it down beside her bed The house settled in too. Creaked as it did it's stretches Wind blowing in from the open window in her room; the curtains just fluttering eyelashes to the soul of outdoors. Eliza bid the house the usual goodnight, her friend in solitude for thirty five years since Mr. Riddle passed on. She crawled under the same down blanket they had both shared, curled up next to his still cold pillow and teetered on the verge of sleep with the last thought before dreams of déjà vu -