The party had ended at some point without anyone announcing it. She stayed on the sectional because standing had become a decision and there had been enough of those. A Bluetooth speaker was still paired to a phone that had left at two. Grey light came through the vertical blinds at the angle it only arrives at on a Sunday. Four cups sat within reach. Three were hers.

Her clinic shift started Monday at eight, which was thirty-one hours away and also no time at all. She noticed she was smiling and could not locate a reason for it, which felt close enough to a reason. Worth it, she told the ceiling, in the voice people use for arguments they have already lost, out loud, to nobody, twice.