I am amazed at how alive a metal coat hanger, hidden among the sheets, can feel against your leg in the predawn hours of the night.
I am equally amazed at how quickly a man of my age can get out of bed when he thinks he’s about to be murdered in his sleep by an inanimate object—standing there, mostly naked and vulnerable—I ease back the covers to reveal the aforementioned coat hanger.
I’ll be taking my coffee black this morning.