Six Hours of Sleep

Someone was knocking at the door. It was not yet 3am in San Francisco. The clock had stopped but the sun was rising. Sophie sought sleep. Walt jolted awake, cursed the dawn and crossed the room. It was the coffee, of course. No one was in sight outside the door.

Caffeine could be more trouble than it was worth. Today, the delivery set events into motion. Now sirens echoed up the street. It was time to go. A breeze stirred the curtains. Descending the fire escape, he spotted the bus. She rose to shut the window. He settled into a seat, cradling the coffee, and listened as the sirens faded away.

The early morning air was bracing. Tossing the cup at the airport bus stop, Walt headed to the locker. Calm set in as the window was closing. A ticket and a wallet would have to be enough this time. Another coffee would not replace lost sleep or anything else anyway. The plane did not leave without him. Finally, in the muffled silence, six hours of sleep was found. He stopped to pick up coffee for her before hailing a cab. Suddenly Sophie was awake, the sun was high and someone was knocking at the door.