Bernie awoke in the night. I was lying just inside the front door, where I can monitor all the smells and sounds of the night while I sleep. We sleep in very different ways, you and I, let’s leave it at that. Bernie can be a very deep sleeper but some nights he’s restless, tossing and turning, and even murmuring at times. Once I’d heard him murmur, “I’m afraid.” I almost didn’t believe I’d heard that, but my ears don’t make mistakes. That night I’d hurried into his bedroom and stood beside the bed for a long time, just watching, but there was no more murmuring and he lay quiet until morning, chest rising and falling, slow and easy.
(from A FAREWELL TO ARFS, coming Aug. 6, preorders welcome)
Chetland (to borrow the term from Maury)
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