His hand reached for the lever
and pushed down. The swirling
sound of water filled the room
as the faucet drenched his hands.
Eyes stared back at themselves
and adjusted. He rubbed his chin,
decided that shaving could wait
until tomorrow. She was still curled
up in bed. He had no interest in waking
her so early after the last few days.
He walked over to the kitchen
and started a pot of coffee.
Leaning against the counter
he saw that he had a new voicemail.
The pot was half filled with warm brown.
He listened to the message
and wondered if he should wake
her after all.
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