Written by: Albert Ahearn

She lies peacefully in our bed dead to the world, unaware of my scrutiny. Her quiescence in that funereal repose sends an ice-cold shiver of dread throughout my entire body. My mind begins to wander through a surrealistic maze that challenges all reality. She’s asleep! I said to myself unconvincingly; then hurried to her bedside and pled out loud: Please! Let these lips I kiss be warm.