He stands in the doorway, framed by light that dared to slip in ‘tween the slats.
He moves closer and I can smell his shower gel.
Leaning in, he whispers the three words women long to hear: “Your coffee’s ready.”
I sigh happily, sit back against the pillows, and know all is right with the world.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Vox populi