They held themselves still in the darkened house. She sat up in bed. He still a bed, but lifting his head. They held their breathes. He hadn’t been awoken by her proverbial, “What’s that noise?” It woke them simultaneously and continued to keep his heart racing. It was the telephone in the lit kitchen down the hall, suddenly off the hook. A hollowness and echo filled the house telling of a door open which usually wasn’t.
A still strength raised him to the sitting position. His right leg curled to the floor and his foot found a toe hold. He rose to his left knee, the quilt and sheet slipping from his naked frame.
Her trembling hand reached for his left elbow with a strangled gasp. There was a new sound; hot breathe coming down the hallway accompanied by swinging shadows.
He leaned forward.
“Good girl” he called as his Black Labrador shyly tiptoed into the bedroom. After a tickle behind the ear he led her back to her doggie bed in the garage and closed the door firmly this time.