It was almost eleven at night when Stella finally closed the piano after the neighbor to her left had knocked on the wall. She was missing Tesla already and looked at the spots where her fat cat usually lounged at this time of night. Did he miss her? shewondered, but quickly dismissed the sentimental notion. He was in cat heaven with that adorable feline female, why would he miss her? One by one she blew out the candles and threw away the rest of the wine, she had forgotten about it, and washed the glass. A quick double check of the bolts and locks of the door and she was ready to tuck in for the night. Thank goodness it was Saturday tomorrow!<br/><br/>She washed her face, put moisturizer and changed into her night t-shirt. As she did she stood in front of her old mirror and looked at herself. She wasn't tall like a Magdalene would likely be, nor skinny like one. She had nice, but not huge boobs, and a decent waist, her tummy had a classic softness to it, not the washboard flat abs in magazines, her thighs were round and she had a generous ass with that birthmark she had hated so as a kid. Stella sighed and pulled the shirt over her head, it was ridiculous to crush on a man who would never notice her, not when there were Magdalenes to be had. He was likely surrounded by them and not fending them off either.<br/><br/>......<br/><br/>It took a long time for her to fall asleep and she didn't wake up again until it was a little past eight. She didn't remember the last time she slept in so late, it felt odd to wake up so late and without a fourteen pound cat smooshing her boobs when standing on her. Stella sat up and blinked at the bright sunlight flooding the honey brown wooden planks in living room, motes of dust dancing in the golden light . There was no meowing greeting her, no headbutts from her miniature tiger, no purring. She tried to listed to hear if she could hear anything from downstairs but it was quiet. Was everything OK?<br/><br/>Stella went to the kitchen, after first answering Nature's insistent call, to make herself a pot of coffee and take out a muffin she had frozen for a special treat.<br/><br/>'Between the ice cream last night and this muffin' commented the devil on her left shoulder 'you should invest in a gym mem...'<br/><br/>Splatt...<br/><br/>'Oh darling...' exclaimed the angel nervously on the other shoulder 'I so disagree, you deserve this muffin, and honey... you're just gorgeous.'<br/><br/>Stella wondered when it would be polite to go and ask for her cat back after she had eaten the entire, industrial size Morning Glory muffin along with several cups of coffee. And this time no staring at his abs, or his ass, or arms, or legs... or anything. Stop it. You're not in his league, never have been, never will be .George Hackman the bassoonist has been asking for a date twice now. He's not bad looking, right? Right?