I was trained from childhood to sleep flat on my back. I fold my hands just under my rib cage, and have one leg or the other pulled up like a stork. And other than switching legs, I seldom move. We have always joked that when I die, all they’ll need to do is straighten out my leg and drop me into my coffin.
This morning, The Squire woke up, smoothed out the covers on his side of the bed, replaced the two decorative pillows, and came over to my side to do the same. As he leaned forward to put the pillows on my side, he put his hand down to steady himself, smack-dab on my right shoulder! He didn’t even know I was there.
I hate to think what my reaction would have been if that pillow had landed on my face!
thisendoftheswamp 
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