Under her. My power cord. But she’s sleeping. Hard. My computer’s on reserve. Finally: You’re on my power cord. Her laughter cuts inside me.

I yelled. I made cutting sarcastic remarks. I brought her close to tears. Who’s bitter? I asked. But she was always smart. You are, she said.

The rain wouldn’t stop. I complained and she opened two beers and said, Let’s see what happens. And we drank our beers and nothing happened.