Clean Sheets

Late at night a man in a shaggy wig lies awake beside the lamp while his wife or girlfriend tries to sleep. He nudges her to confirm she changed the sheets, then rhapsodizes about how nothing beats crawling into clean bedding. The list keeps growing: an ice-cold beer on a hot day, then a long, unhurried trip to the bathroom before work. Then, still in the same cozy tone, he adds shooting a man in self-defence, sits up, and presses her to agree that she saw it all and will say so on the witness stand tomorrow. She mumbles yes without opening her eyes, and he settles back, delighted to have clean sheets and an airtight alibi, before switching off the light and eyeing her thoughtfully.