You Fell Asleep

The note on my nightstand said stay awake, written in my handwriting. I don’t remember writing it.

At 2:17 a.m., my phone buzzed with a sleep-tracking alert: You fell asleep for 12 seconds.

From the hallway came the soft drag of footsteps—slow, patient. Another buzz.

You fell asleep for 8 seconds. I pinched my arm until it bled, staring at the dark

doorway. The footsteps stopped. My phone vibrated one last time. You fell asleep.

And something exhaled beside my bed.