Startled by Towels

I woke up when the smoke alarm insisted.  Either the curtains were on fire or I hadn't changed the battery.  The room danced like a con man's cover and the floor exchanged places with the ceiling.  Somehow my legs kicked off the sheets and I crawled along the carpet, pushed my way into the bathroom and hid in the shower.  On top of the toilet was a stack of fresh towels.  Fuck, I thought.  Not again.