And Back in Bed...

 This morning, Nebula was eating my face.

You heard that right.

Every morning, about seven--which is an hour before I get up--the cat bounds in with wet paws. Could be dew from his morning excursion, or it could be water from the dog bowl--we'll never know. He purrs, he sticks his head under my hand, and he drools.

On my face.

I am mostly asleep at this point--maybe ninety percent.

So he licks the drool off. And licks and licks and licks. And I can sense the hunger stirring within... so delicious. Good human. Much salt. Wonderful human. I loves it... I loves it... I want to--

"No," I mumble, moving my head. "No bitting."

So he starts licking again. Good human. So tasty. Wonderful human. Mmmm... I loves it... I want to... I want to...

"No."

I want to... I want to... I want to...

"Knock it off."

Please let me... please... oh, it tastes so good... so very good...

And today, my husband whispers, threatening as a troll. "Stop. Eating. People."

No! You taste delicious!

And then he bit my nose.