Five hours. If I fall asleep now I can still get five hours sleep.
Rhonda rolled over in her bed with a grunt, her pillow tossed over her head.
“Dad said this house is mine.” Dean held a jar in the air.
“But you got the last two,” Colin whined.
“You can sprinkle Sleep Dust on the next client.”
The invisible fairies scuffled, jar crashing to the floor.
“Look what you did,” Dean scolded. “We have to hit headquarters for another bottle, now.”
“Jeez,” Colin mumbled.
Rhonda sighed. Four hours, fifty minutes. I can still get sleep tonight.
©Laura L. Zimmerman 2017