It’s about 3:10 A.M.
The Attorney is with me.
He arrived about twenty minutes ago and is dead asleep, his long tall self sidled up against me.
The clickety-taps of my laptop keyboard don’t seem to disturb him.
He’s a solid sleeper.
Which makes it odd that he’s here in the first place.
He got out of his own bed to drive an hour and half in the rain to be here.
“I want to come up,” he told me on the phone.
A middle-of-the-night trip is unusual, not part of the routine.
It wasn’t a booty call, so it makes me wonder if everything is alright.
He insists that he’s fine. That he just wanted to be near.
Still, it makes me worry that it’s something more.
Now I can’t sleep.
(Not that I ever do.)
Even though he’s calm.
Even though he’s near.
[ fin ]