While Yannis put the clock forward an hour I lay and watched the play of muscle and sinew under his skin.
“It would be nice,” I said idly, “if we could turn the clocks far enough forward to bypass corona virus.”
“Be careful what you wish for. Have you never heard of Rip Van Winkle?”
I laughed and snuggled into his broad back.
I awoke at daylight, and looked over at Yannis – finding in his stead an old white-haired man. I reached a wrinkled hand out to him.
He clasped it and smiled.
“That virus lasted a long time.”