sounds

In the middle of the night, the wind ruffles the plastic blinds. They brush together and clatter gently against the wall of my bedroom. Still more than half asleep, I roll over and reach toward the sound. It's the sound of someone sitting contentedly on the edge of the bed, laptop keys rattling irregularly while I sleep. I know that sound, somehow it's in my bones already, though I doubt I've heard it that way on more than a dozen nights. Somehow I know it with a deep certainty that's very comforting when waking up alone at 2 in the morning.

(The soft rustle of turning pages and quiet breathing is a sound I've slept beside far more often. Curtains can sound like that, a little, but it's been an awfully long time since I've had curtains in my bedroom.)