It’s Raining, It’s Pouring

My husband snores beside me as the rain falls down on the tin roof—it’s sound not dissimilar to a white noise machine meant to block out the loud and disruptive snoring beside me. But the rain is not falling hard enough or the ceiling is too insulated to let in but a muffled rendition of the storm outside—the storm I imagine is close in magnitude to the one that prompted Noah to build a floating wildlife exhibit.

I’m not sure if it’s the snoring that’s souring my mood or that my spouse can fall asleep so quickly and deeply when it takes me long minutes, stretching into hours at times, to even begin to drift away. Whichever is the case, it causes me to briefly consider the possibilities for silencing him. Nothing as dark as a pillow over the face, although it has crossed my mind once or twice, but more like pushing him into a different position or putting in headphones and silencing his noise with something less grating—like death metal.

Instead, I leave him be and let the sound and the deep sleeping push me closer and closer to pushing him off the bed. Then I glance over and realize that if I push him off the bed, he will inevitably hit his head on the corner of the side table. This will either open up his skull leaving blood all over the tan carpet, or knock him out. When someone is unconscious, do they still snore?

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