The Man Who Entered Our Bedroom at 1:13 Every Night

wife’s chest and attached the line with the kind of ordinary care that made the whole thing worse.

No rush.

No drama.

He flushed it. Checked something on a paper chart. Hung a small bag from a portable hook he’d brought folded inside the case. Clear fluid slid down the tubing.

Karen kept looking anywhere but at me.

I kept looking right at her.

Finally I continue reading …