i have overslept; daylight pouring through the sheer curtains in our room. "if you're awake — i'm bringing us croissants from the bakery!" warm toes on cold floors; a shirt — yours or mine. sweet tinkling of the wind chimes outside; the dull sounds of a possible lawnmower somewhere. walking to the kitchen; the apartment is empty, except — our dog is fed, two cups -- clean and waiting on the counter; music softly playing on the radio; the gurgle of the coffee machine — a knock on the door — croissants are here, and you. oh, you.