Xeroxed sheets appeared overnight on my refrigerator. Emergency phone numbers, schedules of appointments, information about what's wrong with me.
Celia is sticking to the clock doctor's program.
She knows another program is running, one that will trump whatever she's planned.
She was waiting for me in the living room this morning, perched on the couch with a cup of coffee. Neat. Efficient.
Last night--last night! I couldn't sleep in my bed. I had to go out, to lie out under the singing stars.
Celia gasped when I walked in. "I know, my love," I said. "I'm full of starlight!"