By Dan Seavers
NOBODY appreciates a phone call at three in the morning.
That trill that pulls you from your slumber, followed by that stomaching dread that something is now wrong in the world. You imagine someone official on the line, a doctor, or policeman maybe. You fear the worse.
It takes a moment to find the handset, eyes buzzing in the hallway light. You answer.
A single breath. Your wife’s. You’d know it anywhere.
“I love you,” she says, and the line goes dead.
You return to bedroom. Not worrying about why she called. But more about who’s that in your bed.
©Dan Seavers 2016