Marion jolted upright in her bed. Her heart was pounding and she was drenched in sweat. It was very dark in the room, but she could just make out the silhouette of a figure standing in the window, in front of the curtains. She was already trembling, and then she started to cry, silently, though, so as not to draw attention. She was terrified that the figure in front of the window was an intruder, a burglar, perhaps a madman that had sneaked into her house with the intent to rob her and kill her. Her breathing was short and shallow. She tried to remain quiet so that the man, or at least she thought it was a man, would not hear her. She wasn’t sure if he knew she was in the bed. But he must have, because she had just awoken from a terrifying nightmare. She must have cried out. He must have heard her. But why did he just stand there? Just then, she saw the figure move and she heard a sound, schiiiiccckkkkk! He lit a match. She could see his face. It was her husband. She cried out, “Oh my God! What are you doing there!? He said, “Don’t worry honey, everything’s going to be OK, I was in the other room and I heard you thrashing around in here. I’ve been standing here for quite awhile, just watching you. Are you OK now?” She let out a long sigh and said, “I was so scared, I thought you were an intruder! I just woke up from the most horrific nightmare and then I saw you standing there in the window and you scared the crap out of me. God, all I want to do is lay back down and go back to sleep. Will you please put out that cigarette and get into bed with me and hold me for awhile while I try to go back to sleep?” The man stubbed out his cigarette and came and sat on the bed next to his wife. “Honey” he said, “I can’t let you go back to sleep. You were never asleep and you didn’t have a nightmare. “What do you mean?” she asked. “You weren’t having a nightmare. We’re both dead.”