The almost full moon pulled the earth around, climbed the clouds, and slid down the other side, to the west. The dawn peepings of birds stirred upon the pinkening, silver air.
A sleeping man rolled over and settled his face against a fair, warm arm. A sleeping woman pulled her pillow into the deep curve of her shoulder, bent a bare knee toward her nose.
The man snored lightly and shifted onto his stomach, and a lock of silver hair caught in his nose, fluttering as he breathed, tickling him distractingly.
The edge of a long, tanned hand scratched at his nose, tried to brush the nuisance away. But his breath fluttered it again, still caught, still tickling. He snuffled, then roused, felt something warm covering his fingers, and opened his eyes groggily to see what it was.
His wife.
