|
The clock sat quiet on the nightstand, its green fluorescent
numbers shouting out three a.m. Heavy breathing was muffled
under the layers of bed linen that draped the large mass
that lay in the middle of the bed. Every now and then the
large formation would shift and a new pattern would occur.
In an instant, the still formation erupted—the mass tossing
and turning under the bed covers that sang like a robin as
the silk fibers rubbed against each other.
“No, don’t go, please don’t go,” the voice cried out in the
darkness. Then quiet.
|
