A slice of morning light shines through the tiny sliver between blackout curtains, invading my sleep like a warmed knife does butter. No sound. Eyes opening slowly, I glance upwards at my alarm clock and can only see the first half of a cerulean blue 7 – still too early. Thank God. Sensing my alertness, his arm wraps around my waist; the space between my shoulder blades, he graces with a kiss. We drift off.
Cool, silver sheets beneath, the down warmth surrounds us.
Saturday morning, that’s where I want to be.