sleeping too deep

sometimes i sleep when i should not. i hear your voice in my head. but still i wake to find you are not there.

waiting

I will tell her...she sighs and stirs, sweeps her unbrushed hair clear of her watery eyes, goes to rise but remains sitting, cups her hands around a jug - a junk shop present to herself. In her eyes the window makes small bright squares, under her eyes cusps of blue twin-moon her white face. She pushes her hair clear, sighs and stirs.

from In between the sheets by Ian McEwan

hold tight, it's just beginning.

she struggled and drew in a shallow breath.
"i am afraid," she said.
"of what?" he asked.
she let her breath go.
and underneath it softly murmured, "of failure."