I get into bed, extinguish the light and turn to face the wall. I pull at the duvet, wrapping it snugly around my neck so no draughts can encroach, and close my eyes. I feel my body become heavier as I drift towards sleep…
And then it comes. The siren call. I ignore it, burying my head deeper in my pillow. But my room is temporarily illuminated. I squeeze my eyes more firmly shut in an attempt to block out the light. But it is too late. The siren echoes in my ears, willing me to take action, to arise and open my eyes.
I decline. But it is now lodged in my head and curiosity is tapping me on the shoulder. I try to ignore it but my will is weak. I slowly turn over, opening first one eye, then the other. My hand reaches out to my bookcase, my fingers feeling their way along the shelf. I pick up the rectangular object and press on the glass. It is him. He has texted.
