One day, I woke up to the phone ringing. It was a woman I barely knew, but had talked to not long before about needing a new home.
The place I lived in was no longer adequate. In fact, it never had been adequate, but after my latest fearful call to the police, they’d strongly suggested I move out. Soon.
“I think I may have found the perfect place for you,” she said. After a brief description, I knew she was absolutely right. It was perfect. I’d love it. My cats would love it. It was within easy walking or driving distance of…well, everything. Best of all, it had character.
One thing, though. Certainly it would be too expensive. There was no way a place this ideal could fit my teeny-tiny budget. I mentally held my breath and asked, “how much is it?”
She told me the price. Only slightly more than I was paying now. The utilities would definitely be higher, but I’d figure out a way. Not a half hour later, that way came to me via another call.
“I’ve got a job and you were the first person I though of,” my friend Wanda told me. “It’s only part-time, but it could grow to something full-time within a year. It’s yours if you want it.”
I already had a part-time job, and the hours for this one were exceptionally flexible, which I absolutely needed.
I lay there in bed, thinking, I must be dreaming.
I felt some soft paws tapping my forehead. Time to get up, the kitties were saying. The alarm went off. Time to get up, it was telling me. I opened my eyes. My phone was nowhere in sight. I had been dreaming. Damn.
But it could happen, right?
Daily Prompt: Grand Slam
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