I can feel the earthquake. Or at least, I think I can, because the ceiling lamp isn’t moving. I run upstairs in a frenzy to check on my son. He is sound asleep.
My husband is asleep, too. He hasn’t felt the earthquake, but he has heard me move about. Of course he has.
“What is it?”
“There’s been an earthquake!”
“Alright, alright … Now why don’t you turn off the light and stop making so much noise …”
P.S. update after he woke up:
“Next time, I’ll take our son and leave you to sleep under the rubble!”
“But why so tense? What’s the matter? You didn’t sleep well?”
Oh Lord, please let me be reborn as a man, I promise I’ll serve you well.
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