GALIANA, 40, pleasantly pudgy with casual sexual confidence, lays asleep on her half of her comfortable queen-sized bed. Her HUSBAND, just shy of his 41st birthday, attempts to slip into bed beside her, unnoticed.
A few hours later. HUSBAND lays asleep on the bed as GALIANA attempts to slip in beside him, unnoticed.
Are you okay?
I’m fine. I just went potty and got some Aleve.
Why did you need leaves?
Aleve. I didn’t want my back to get sore. The blue pain pill, Aleve.
Are you having salad?
Yes. That’s exactly right. Leaves for a salad.
Why are you talking so much? You should be quiet now.
Mmmhmmm. Sorry, love.
You’re horrible at being quiet. I give you one star. Too loud. Too many salads.
Galiana stifles a giggle, only somewhat successfully, remembering the first night they spent together, which was about three hours of delicious fucking followed by an hour of giggling too hard to sleep, mostly fueled by the will-never-be-as-funny-to-anyone-else punchline, “Did you try to teach that sumbitch octopus to ride a bicycle?”
Galiana drifts back to sleep, oddly comforted.
The nightmares do not return.