It’s night. It’s late. My wife’s breathing has reached that level that indicates near-dream state. I know what time it is. 12:36 A.M.
Abruptly I sit up in the dark, ramrod straight:
ME What-was-that?
LAURA Rey, what.
ME …!
LAURA Rey, what did you hear?
ME …!
LAURA (louder) What is it?!
LAURA (louder!) WHAT IS IT?!?
LAURA (louder!!) WHAT’S GOING ON, REY, WHAT DID YOU HEAR?!?
ME April Fool’s Day.