In Stealth Mode Today

I am in stealth-mode today, sneaking from place to place, unwilling to be stopped or recognized. My cocker spaniel has honored this in absolutely no way, not recognizing this new improved sneaky side of my me-ness. I have slipped in and out of rooms, not making eye contact, where I stand motionless, listening, unobserved, unnoticed, hearing noises I had never heard before, noises meant for today only. I creep into my husband’s office. I am dressed from neck to feet in black, I am not wearing a helmet or a veil, but I have cautioned my burgundy hair to keep quiet. I stand for a second, watching my man, on the other side of the room. He is wearing headphones, looking down, at something probably not as interesting or stealthy as me on his desk. Suddenly my awful side urges me to open my eyes wide and push my mouth into full blown wide-open mid-gallop, knowing what will happen. Full stealth now, I pray the dog does not notice me and enter. I know the instant he has spotted me standing there in full-blown-not-quite-rigor-but-almost-as-scary attention, unmoving, stealth-mode. He jumps a foot. Why do you do that? He asks me. Making me laugh.