It was a rather late hour, later than I cared to admit, when I tiptoed in from the guest bedroom to our bedroom. Jeff was mostly awake, but not quite, as I slipped in under the covers and snuggled up next to him.
"I had bad dreams last night," I said, leaving it at that. Jeff has shared the same bed with me long enough to know that when I have bad dreams, I tend to awaken out of them only to go right back in them. The end result: a long night, filled with multiple awakenings, with little useful sleep actually acquired. When nights like this happen, I end up moving to the guest bedroom so that Jeff, at least, will get a quiet night of sleep.
Morning was almost over, but the sluggish darkness from around the mini-blinds spoke of storm clouds, making it appear much earlier in the morning. Behind my head, the rain slashed against the windowpane. Perfect. He yawned, I yawned, and pulled the covers up to my neck.