Everyone needs a room of one's own.
Especially my toothbrush.
Lying on its back on a brown paper napkin suited for naps, it tries to slumber. Tossing and turning, it tries to sleep after I've said, "Good night, sleep tight, sleep well, and happy dreams." It tries to get some shut-eye amidst Toothpaste's chatter. Tries to get at least forty winks amidst Dental Floss' clatter.
Toothpaste wants to spread spearmint cheer throughout the land while Dental Floss wants to tie the knot, tightrope walk, and string us along. They clamor to open the portal to the sink and think outside the wooden box.
Toothbrush wants to give them the brush off. All it wants is a good night's sleep. It stares at the ceiling. It counts teeth.
Causes Eva Schlesinger Supports
Center For Young Women's Development
Alameda County Library Foundation