Interlude

"And what happens if I go crazy?"

"Whaa?"

He is halfway to sleep, holding my right hip like a life preserver. I've asked him this specific question at this specific moment for a reason. So I ask again.

"What happens if I go crazy?"

There is a pause. And I can tell by his breathing - that lean stomach beating against my soft back with more determination - he is awakened. Perfectly lucid.

"We'll deal with that if we get to that."

He falls asleep again. More calm than a baby in mother's arms. Hand on my hip, content. Nothing short of catastrophe could wake him up now.

Even as I type this I feel him falling deeper into dreams.

I wish sometimes that I could sleep like a man.