by Clive Tern
While we ate, the news warned of power outages. Hopefully we'll make it through the night. The world may be warmer than thirty years ago, but it still drops to forty degrees overnight, cool enough to need the heat on.
After tea we sit on the couch.
"Can I kiss you?" You ask.
"Not just now. You can read to me."
"What do you want me to read?"