What time did you say it was?

It’s five.

What’re you doing up?

Couldn’t sleep. Up all night. Strange dreams. Uncomfortable in my skin, he said. There’s a lot of people up at this hour, he rolled a cigarette. Factory workers, waitresses, cops working on a homicide, ambulance drivers carting off corpses, he walked over to open the blinds.

You don’t have to be anywhere, she said. Those days are over, she touched his shoulder from behind. Your days of worrying are over. They should be, he shook his head.

It’s the little things that eat me up, he told her. Worry about little things growing into big things, he laughed. Like, what if I lose my mind? Go crazy? Start forgetting things. No longer able to drive through town or on pretty country roads in autumn. It all just scares me, she wrapped her arms around his waist, kissed the back of his shirt.

We’ll be fine, his wife said. We’ll be fine.