The man took each breath as gently as he could. The air tasted like salt.
"Are you hot?" he asked.
It was past midnight, but not dark yet. A blue-grey light filled the loft. The woman’s leg was hanging loose off the bed. He slipped past it and opened the window.
"You were right," he said.
It felt less stuffy now and the only thing the man could smell was her. She was beautiful and motionless and still facing the sheets.
By Carl-Henrik Björck of Umea
