The Unchosen Night

Late at night, two blankets hung on the balcony. Across the way, the apartment lights went out one by one, and now and then a dog barked. She wrapped both hands around her teacup. Beside her came the sound of him pulling up the blanket. She was running a finger along the rim of the cup when he spoke. ‘What if tomorrow were the last day.’ Head lowered, she murmured, ‘What would you even wear out in weather like that.’ Neither of them laughed. The smoke above the ashtray scattered, and only the hum of the refrigerator grew clear. No one had chosen yet.