Cindy loved her husband, and the dog. She wanted to love sharing a bed with them both just as much. Sometimes she did; but, as she shoved aside the tiny body curled up on her back and burrowed her head deeper under the pillow that failed miserably as a sound-proofing device, she lamented that this was not one of those times.
Some married couples slept in separate beds. Some gossips, her husband included, wondered if those marriages were all they were cracked up to be. Cindy didn’t. She envied the self-assured confidence of the well-rested.
She dreamed of her own bed, downy soft and just right, with no one to jostle her or snort in her ear as she dozed. What a lovely dream. Except, not a dream. A wish. A nice fantasy. She’d have to be asleep to dream.
Irritably, Cindy picked the dog off of her chest and plopped him on her husband’s, whose snoring abruptly stopped. She sunk back into her pillows and smiled. Maybe she couldn’t sleep alone, but at least she didn’t have to be alone in her sleeplessness.