I awake hours later. He is sleeping next to me. He’s lying against my side, pressed so I’m pinned. My arm is asleep, instead of fingers I feel a far away tingle. A red digital clock in the darkness above my head flashes 12:00 12:00 12:00 over and over and over
Finally home, I run to our room, shedding my jacket on the floor. I find Miles on our bed, the muscles in his face are still and beautiful. For a moment I think that he’s asleep … or dead? I throw my body down beside him. But he opens his eyes, grins, just joking. Then with a strength that jars my breath, he pulls me to him, nestling my head beneath his chin. It’s our little game — playing dead, pretending to be asleep. The thrill of getting caught in the act.
