One night this summer, The Wife went to bed c. 9:30 p.m., while I retired c. 10:40. At some point, the phone rings. The phone in the office, down the hall from our bedroom, announces the call: “Call from Smith John. Call from Smith John. Call from.” No message is left. I tell The Wife it’s 12:02.
The next morning, she complains about this interrupted sleep from the phone call. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Continue reading “Somniloquy”