Twos and fours hover before my face. I swipe at them, trying to clear the field. Up, down, side to side. As they combine, forming larger numbers, more fill the empty places. I shift in bed, plump the pillow, and squeeze my eyes closed again. The numbers are gone. Finally, I can get some rest.
I�ve never had trouble sleeping. I�m usually out within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, but this last week has been different. Ever since Jan introduced me to that stupid game, all I can think about are numbers.
Two in the morning. I stare at the clock in disbelief. Wasn�t I just dreaming about twos? My bladder screams for relief. I grab my phone as I go to take care of business.
A wrong move starts a chain reaction I can�t stop. I need a two, but the game gives me a four. I�m not going to make it. Ugh. So close to beating my high score. I�ll just play one more game before returning to bed.
Hubby knocks on the bathroom door. �Are you alright?� he whispers.
�Yeah. Just a moment.� My bum is numb. How long have I been sitting here?
I hide my phone in the waistband of my pajama pants before exiting. Hubby doesn�t need to know what the holdup is. He wouldn�t understand. He kisses me as I pass him in the hall.
My side of the bed is cold. Exhaustion tugs at my body, but my brain will not stop. I close my eyes and force my breathing to regulate and my heart to calm.
The house is silent when I finally wake up and stretch. I feel more tired now than I did when I went to bed last night. I rub my eyes and grope for my phone. It isn�t on the bedside table. I know I put it back. Didn�t I?
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I jump up and pull the bed apart. It isn�t here. I have to have my phone. I check the floor and on the night stand again, but there is no sign of it. It couldn�t have just disappeared.
A thorough search of the bedroom, the hall, and the bathroom leave me empty handed. I�d call Hubby at work, but I can�t. I need my phone to do that.