We Only Pretended To Sleep

1

“It’s somewhere in my rib cage, the sky, inflating, a reckoning between dream and bone,” Gabriel said, reading 
an orginal, handwritten monologue that he’d scrawled on the back of a CVS receipt.

“I did what I did, because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do,” he continued as an ambulance 
went screaming past the production studio’s office, its lights and sirens announcing that somewhere, 
something horrible was happening.

After some deliberation, Gabriel was hired for what turned out to be a mattress commercial.

A few days later, entering the studio, Gabriel was introduced to Sam, a strawberry-blonde, who was to be his 
counterpart. 

“It's really not as bad as you think. The local news isn’t reality. It’s an index of wreckage and bullet casings,” Sam had said as they waited for wardrobe.

Gabriel changed into a pair of boxer briefs while Sam was costumed in a silk night gown. As the pair were led to the 
set by a production assistant, the wardrobe lady called to them.

“Don’t forget these,” she said, handing each of them wedding rings. 

After sliding the jewelry onto their fingers, they were directed to lay in bed as if in a deep sleep. 

A look of contentment on his face, Sam’s strawberry-blonde hair spilling across her pillow, all of this, a
long-distance day dream, the two of them, there, pretending. 

2

Their commercial was to air during a late-night rerun of Law and Order: SVU. Neither had cable so 
they met at the Smith’s house. Gabriel had a key as he’d been asked to collect theri mail and water the lawn while 
they were away.

Gabriel greeted Sam at the door and welcomed her into his neighbor’s home as if it were his own.

In the living room, Sam kicked off her sandals and sat down on the couch, feet folded beneath her; and 
in this, Gabriel found purpose.

“How about this one?” Gabriel asked from the kitchen, holding up an inexpensive bottle of wine that he was sure that the Smiths wouldn’t miss.

“I gave up drinking,” Sam said. “But it won’t bother me if you imbibe. We can sit together and dream different dreams.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I’m not sorry,” she said. “When death comes for me, I doubt I'll think ‘I should have drank more.’”

“I guess be mindful of death and live accordingly,” Gabriel said.

Sam’s eyes brightened, as if she'd just recognized an old friend.

3

After fumbling with the remote, Gabriel tuned the TV to TNT.

…the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known 
as the Special Victims Unit.

“Have you been in anything else?” Sam asked, her sapphire eyes, her ruby lips.

“Nothing that’s been on TV. But, each day feels performative. I’m not actually that good at being human, I only act like I am.”

As the two actors stared into the TV, looking for something, looking for themselves, the wind raked across the yard, 
pushing over the trash cans before gripping the patio furniture, toppling the table, toppling the chairs.

Just as Law & Order cut to a commercial, the screen was seized by a message from the Emergency 
Broadcast System: heavy storms and flash flooding.

Dark clouds converged, making the sky forget the moon.

4

Rain curtained the windows, a scrim lowered, the outside dripping, sliced, obscured.

The TV hissed and wined, the weather alert still scrolling across the screen.

And then, the power went out, the darkness pushing into the house as if reclaimed by nature.

Neither of them reached for our phones. 

A strobe of lightning lit the room and suddenly, it seemed strange that the couch was oriented towards 
the dead TV while the window behind us danced with electricity. 

“Let’s watch this,” Gabriel said, and they, togther, turned the couch around so as to take in the storm.

Zig-zags of lighting splintered through the darkness, the sky reaching down to touch them.

Sam put her head on Gabriel's shoulder. And neither of them said anything, the two, there, just pretending.