There is a downside to sleeping on a hard floor. It usually means a short night of tossing and a stiff neck. The arms and hands just are not pillowy enough.
But, the lap of a thin young man is bliss. Allowing hours of perfection in slumber.
I know the waking transition is normal to sleep. Moving arms and legs a bit, but not really having control or awareness.
I found one arm stretched up onto his shirt back and the other arm resting on his bare shin.
With a dim recollection, I was worried, briefly. The smile of his face made everything right.
Never did I have such a delight in the morning. To see the smile.
No other man had ever been so devoted.
Certainly a few met my morning gaze (but they all had an expectancy of starting again from the night before).
For the man to have only pleasures in seeing me. That really is just fiction. Too rare.
Yet, today. Here I am. There is the smile.
Life does have a pace. It will impinge. He whispers softly "We have a visitor coming down the path."