The Second Call

Airnote  ·  Rui  ·  Oct 10, 2026

In the dream, there seemed to be a small sound tacked onto the end of her name.
A finger poked her arm through the blanket, and at last her eyes opened.
A face was closer than she'd expected, and she looked away.

"Morning," was all it said, grinning.
Whether she had misheard, she wasn't told.
Not being told is, just a little, ticklish.

Her hair was springing up even more than it had that morning,
and her ears were lit red by the lamp at her feet.
She woke on the second call. Today was on the early side.

She straightened a fold in the blanket with one finger, for no reason.
The presence of someone waiting leaves a light on
even at the way out of sleep.