The snow appeared to cover the landscape like a soft woolen sheet when Ferdie peaked out of the window on his way back to bed. Allie was still asleep, she had not stirred when he had arisen to use the bathroom, and now he stood by the window just watching her sleep. He loved the way her face would become so peaceful when she slept, he valued the privilege to see her true face as much as anything about their relationship.

He turned back to the window and pulled the curtains open, letting the winter sun into the room. Allie stirred as the light played across her face, and through sleepy eyes she looked up at Ferdie;

“Good morning, babe. Did it snow?”

A wide smile spread across Ferdie’s face and he simply nodded and pointed out of the window. His smile was joined by an equally exuberant smile on Allie’s face as she bounded out of bed and threw herself into Ferdie’s arms. Squeezing him hard and pressing their bodies together she rained kisses down on his face;

“Come and play in the snow with me, lover?”

“Oh Yeah!”

Three o’clock and I was still awake. The previous two and a half hours had crawled by as I changed sides and enjoyed the view of either wall and of course the ceiling. I had tried music, and even turning the light back on to read. When I had tried to read my eyes had almost immediately rebelled against the task, leading me to hope that at last I could sleep, but the moment the book was closed and the light was once again out this sleepiness was banished by the dark.

Two and a half hours is not a very long time, when one has some kind of diversion; many films are as long and seem to pass in the blink of an eye. When I cannot sleep every second lasts for a minute as I grasp at repose.

You may ask why I was so stricken with this bout of vicious insomnia, and I would love to be able to offer some kind of useful or interesting explanation, but the mundane and disappointing truth is that neither was this night unusual nor provoked by any one thing that I could point to and say “and this is why I could not sleep”.

“She asked you what?”

“She asked me if I liked the way her pussy looks.”

“Damn! What did you say?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know I love the pussy, but let’s be honest, Bro, there is nothing good lookin’ about that whole area.”

“Are you serious? I love the sight of a pussy, man I love the way they look. I mean I really do think that they are beautiful. I thought that she was asking me ‘cos she’d read some crazy-ass magazine thing about labiaplasty and how men prefer smaller or tidier labia, but clearly it’s not just down to that. How can you not love the way a woman looks man?”

“Labiaplasty! Are you shittin’ me? What do you know about all that shit fo’?”

“I walk around with my eyes and ears open man. I mean this shit has been on the news and so forth. You do watch the news, right?”

“Nah man, that shit is borin’ an’ it’s always the same. Bad shit goin’ on in Iraq or Iran or somethin’ and then the banks is all fucked up and then some kid got clipped in a school shootin’. It’s depressing I ain’t wasting my time.”

I can’t see her face. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, how hard I screw my eyes closed, how much I beg and beg and beg my mind to comply. I haev to admit that there has been a long time in which I’ve not wanted to have her cluttering up my thoughts, but right now, even though I know I should not, I want to see her face.

It’s getting colder. The gauges are telling me that it won’t be long now; less than five minutes and the only thing of interest left is whether the batteries will outlast the air supply. Will I suffocate or freeze to death? At least the view is good. Still all I seem to be able to do is think about her. Staring death in the face, no hope at all of rescue and all I can think of is that hotel room, the last time we made love. I can’t remember her face, but I can remember the smile she had as I slid inside her; I can still hear what she whispered into my ear as our bodies touched, all of me inside her. I can feel the air getting thinner and all I can remember is how happy we both were that day.

There was no one moving on the street when I came out of the house. That’s hardly unusual at three in the morning, but I had rather a greater sense of lonliness than normal that night. The bag over my shoulder felt heavy even though there was little in it; the weight was certainly imagined. I locked the front door and then reached into the bag to make sure that the package was still there and still whole. My hand brushed against the Colt as I pulled my hand out again, it’s cold steel body poking out slightly from the hand pocket inside the bag where I had hoped it would be easy to extract if necessity demanded.

I looked up and down the street, trying very hard to not look as though I were looking up and down the street, and then set off into the dark morning. There is something quite magical about that time of day, for me. It is as though the world is off-duty, and one can see it as it really is, not polluted by people or things. It is just quietly being, all alone, like a theatre without a show or audience.

“Morning, Virgil.”

Paul had been awake since sunrise and had already rebuilt the fire started on breakfast and made a pot of coffee. His older brother was rubbing his eyes and groaning, clearly stiffened by sleeping on the cold March ground.

“I’m pleased that you didn’t try to tell me is was good, brother. How is it that you are not suffering the effects of last night’s bourbon, Paul?”

“Why I didn’t partake of any of it, Virg. You know I don’t hold wi’drinkin’. Anyway, you want coffee?”

Virgil shook his head as he creaked into a sitting position, running his hands through his hair trying to flatten it down. He grunted a couple of times, then nodded to the offer of coffee as he started to pull on his boots.

“You bin awake since sun-up then, Paul?”

Paul nodded as he poured the coffee and passed it to Virgil

“Thanks.”, Virgil took a long gulp and then settled the tin mug between his palms to warm his hands, “We have a long way to ride today little brother, eat up and then we need to be on our way.”

“Okay, Virg you bet.”

“You’re in a bad way then, how’d you do that?”

Henry tried to remember that this well-meaning stranger had no idea that this was the fourteenth time he had heard that question since leaving the house. The problem with British society as far as Henry could tell was that there was no reason to talk to strangers unless they were injured or obviously foreigners. He had commuted in the Thames Valley for five years, on and off, and at the beginning he had tried to engage strangers on trains and platforms in daily chit chat. He had quickly learned that one did not speak to one’s fellow traveller except to to express disdainful solidarity over the issues of delays and overcrowding.

Now that he was attempting to thread his way through commuter crowds on crutches, he fell foul of the fact that there was a lot of standing around for lifts and for gates to be held open, and these pauses allowed normal people to repeatedly ask the same pedestrian question;

“How did you end up like that?” or “Hurt yourself have you?”

Wankers.

“You need to actually do some work, when you’re at work, John. You know, you’ve got to stop making up excuses for just surfing the Net all day and actually do your work.”

John nodded and smiled. It looked like his strategy of purposeful deriliction of duty was working quite well and soon his well-meaning manager, Tom, was not going to be able to keep his temper about this and there would be an erruption that led to a firing.

“Okay, well I’m glad that we understand each other. I know that it’s hard to concentrate, so just don’t open up any non-work websites. Be strict with yourself and that way there is no temptation to spend hours reading blogs or posting on web fora. I promise you that you’ll find your day goes a lot quicker if you are busy with work as well.”

“No problem, Tom, and you’re right of course.”

John turned and slouched out of the office and back towards his cube, a soft, barely detectable smile on his face. Soon he would be free of this place and without ever having had to be anything but bone idle.