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Saturday mornings felt like being wrapped up in a warm, snuggly blanket on an icy cold winter's night. They are the sanctuary for the weekday weary, and for Sarah it meant she could rouse from her 'slumber of the dead' a couple of hours later than usual. It was a lovely feeling, being relaxed and totally at peace with the world. She stretched out her tired, weary limbs under the big soft duvet and smiled; it felt like floating on a fluffy white cloud. Five days of the week, the pressures of academia sucked the life from her body, until she would finally collapse from mental exhaustion each Friday evening. Saturday morning was like being born again, in theory anyway.

With a reluctant sigh, Sarah shuffled out of bed naked, navigated her way across the laundry strewn floor of her room, and slipped into the bath robe which she found slung over the back of a chair near the door. With all of the grace and poise of an alcoholic with an inner ear infection, she managed to stumble down the stairs without breaking her neck. Magazines and shoes littered each step in a veritable death trap of student crap.

She weaved between the front tyre of a bicycle and the edge of a door frame with a practiced spin, then trudged her way into the kitchen. The tiles were cold on her bare feet, and the blinding light of a beautiful morning flooded in through the windows stinging her eyes. As she sleepily shuffled over to the refrigerator, Sarah saw pinned to the front of it a note. She removed the flesh-coloured magnet resembling a pair of boobs, and read the scrap of paper through squinted eyes.

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Hi guys! Mike and I have gone to his parents' place for the weekend. Last minute thing. Back on Sunday night. Smooch! S