Whatever Works - Part 2
Two hours later, I wake up with a start. Silence fills the room. Sweet, merciful silence. I allow myself a few moments of quiet ecstasy before the inevitable creeping dread invades my consciousness. “Just go back to sleep,” I try telling myself. “He’s absolutely fine.” But already it’s too late. The seed of fear has been planted. “What if he rolled over and suffocated himself?” “What if he choked on his tongue?” “What if he just stopped breathing for no reason at all, as if some higher force simply reached out and turned off a switch?” I seem to spend half my life wishing Albert would go to sleep and the other half worrying that he’ll never wake up.
