TOMORROW (ACHING)

She meant to call. But the bottle always answered first

She woke up determined to call her daughter.

But first she had to clean the house.

Her gaze moved around the kitchen.
A mountain of dishes in the sink.
Trash rising above the rim of the bin.
Items scattered across the floor so thick she had to place each step carefully.

The phone exactly where she had left it yesterday.

She found the chair and sat.

The room seemed to settle with her.

She reached to the left and tipped a little from the bottle into the cup.

Tomorrow, she thought.

Tomorrow
I will call her.