The phone rings, wakes her from a deep slumber. She reaches across to the nightstand and checks the readout on the caller ID, what could he possibly want at this time of the night? She considers just ignoring it, pretending not to have heard but she cannot lie to herself even if she could to him. She rises from the bed at the same time as she answers the phone, with just a hint of sleep mixed into the concern in her voice as she asks him what the matter is. ‘Nothing’ apparently is the matter, he just wants to talk and she was the first person he could think of. She smiles and tells him she’s all ears and wanders across to the window and throws it wide open. As the cool night breeze blows in, the voice at the other end of the line begins to tell her of his day and because he is a born storyteller, it immediately becomes exciting and comes alive in front of her eyes as he describes the things that have happened. He finishes and asks about her day, she takes a minute to collect her thoughts and hesitantly proceeds to tell him the bare bones of incidents. He interrupts her with questions about everything until she has made a story of it too, something she finds she is unable to do usually. They both laugh about it; the hour has been well spent. Goodbyes are exchanged and there is a gentle click as he disconnects the phone. She continues to stand still for a few more moments before stepping back from the window, shutting the panes and falling back into bed, falling asleep once again, this time with a smile on her face.