It was an ordinary morning, middle of the week. Shower, coffee, check my pockets and pick up my bag, leave the flat and lock the door. We all do this, don’t we? I mean we all run on autopilot a good deal of the time, right?
I was halfway to the station when I realised that this was not an ordinary morning, Sara was in my bed, sleeping still. This was the first time that she had stayed the night and I had breezed out to work without even writing her a note or leaving her a bowl of fruit and some fresh coffee and a rose and…
I realised that I needed to calm down – after all she is not really that kind of girl; not the kind of girl to expect a fanfare. It was not as though we had sex for the first time the night before, it was just that now we had no reason to hide.
As I sat on the train, watching the yellow fields zip by and sipping coffee number two I thought that I ought to do something – a text message perhaps? She would need to get up for work.
Good Morning, I’m glad that you are in my bed.