Dark Room

I sit in a dark room, waiting for my wife to awaken so I might emerge from the darkness into the day. Until she is up, I must slink around in the darkness of the B&B room, keeping quiet and maintaining the darkness. I arose more than two hours ago, took a shower, read from the inter webs, and considered the distance, in meters, between now and then. Just 15 minutes until I can wake her, according to her instructions last night. Ah, I long for the freedom of morning and coffee and a big, unhealthy breakfast! But for now, the room is dark and I have only my iPad as company. Oh, and the inter webs. I read, half an hour ago, the recollections of a medical student’s experience dissecting the body of a woman who starved to death. If that image doesn’t make one thankful for the little things, I don’t know what will. Such are the thoughts that inhabit my mind in this dark room.