I woke to the sound of the third floorboard from the bed groaning its displeasure for being distrubed before first light. Deep in winter, it would remain surly till well past 9:00. A whiff of iron, terror, and sweat crinkled my nose. I threw the deflated feather pillow I had been drooling on over my eyes in protest.
“Morning, Wendi.” came my grunted salutation.