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Too much for that hour

April 28, 2010

He disappeared sometime in the night, and she woke alone, hands reaching from her curled-up self in a sleep-blind effort to find him in the dark. He returned then, taking one of her hands in his, whispering because voices are too much for that hour. He told her he’d just gotten too hot, he hadn’t wanted to wake her, he was back for the duration, everything was OK. He wrapped himself around her, and it was all she could do to stay awake long enough to let the gratitude settle.

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