Doris awoke with a start and almost tumbled from the sofa. She steadied herself on the coffee table for a moment, to give herself time to catch her bearings. The sun was streaming through the front window, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. As her mind emerged from the fog of a Flexeril-induced sleep, Doris thought for a split-second the sunlight was a sign of morning, that she had somehow slept through the night, and she bolted upright on the sofa. But as soon as her head recovered from the dizziness of rising too suddenly, she saw the clock on the mantle, ticking its way quietly toward five o"clock. In the corner, the muted television flickered travel program images of tourists strolling along the wide boulevard of some sun-drenched coastal city. Her stomach rumbled its objections t
