Carol

Carol opened her eyes and remained motionless beneath her heavy blankets as the blaring alarm rover bounced frantically among the walls and dressers. She looked deeply into the ceiling as the racket faded into a distant muffled disturbance. She recaptured her dream for a moment, just long enough to marvel in its spectacular beauty. It faded away. She closed her eyes and tried to reclaim it, but could only detect a dim glow. She wanted it back, and decided she would sleep forever if it returned. It didn't.

The rover had escaped into the hallway terrifying Stuart, her ancient Siberian feline. Carol had learned to wait for the wheels to become moored on some obstacle rather than chase the damn thing around. It buzzed beneath her feet as she stepped through the bathroom door. The electric toothbrush was loud enough to drown out some of the incessant screeching. By now it didn't bother her much as long as she had something to think about. She thought about that as she held the bristles against her molars and and considered purchasing a more obnoxious model.

Diversions had a way of keeping Carol sane, and moments like this forced her to forget her obsession, if only for a few moments. She would be wrapped up in it all day as usual, so, for now, she decided to think about her dream, and concluded that it must not have been that great after all. She knew it was, but there was no point.

On her way out the door she pulled the distressed rover from its predicament, wedged beneath the sofa, turned it off, and set it on her bedside table. She took one more look to be sure the alarm was set properly for the following morning.