His sleep was disrupted by dreams. Vivid images and a loud soundtrack in his head. Rolling in the blankets, he talked out loud. Where are you? he would ask. When are you coming to bed? the old man called out. And, there was no answer. Just the sound of a television in the other room. Voices. It was Johnny Carson talking to Raquel Welch. Again the old man yelled, When are you coming to bed? the dream continued.

The hallway was dark. Just a blue light shined from the outside. It was a streetlight coming through the window. In the living room she was rocking herself to sleep in the cushioned chair. He looked at her. Held her hand. Could feel her warmth. He whispered, Get up. Wake up. Come on now. Come to bed, he said. She did not move. He placed his fingers in her mouth. Drool came from the corners. The young woman did not flinch. Just sat there asleep, rocking back and forth.

A breeze blew into the kitchen. The window was open and the curtains swayed. He reached across the sink to close it, but, the old frame would not budge. The warm winds of summer kept blowing in. No sound. Just air moving.

He walked back to the living room and she was gone. Off to bed I bet, he thought. Yes, off to bed, he said. Lying down, he noticed that the blankets were all kicked off the bed. Her pillow was wet. He started to shake an invisible body in the dark. A ghost. There was no one. He woke up to the sounds of a television. It was Johnny Carson talking to Raquel Welch.