The morning. I sleep. My husband came from a night shift. Something is knocking at the door. I don’t open it hard (I’m completely overwhelmed!) Calls on the phone. I get out of a warm bed. I open the door, he enters and, like apologizing, without saying anything, points to the keys on the box. Mole has forgotten. The dialogue:
I thought it was you waking me up... You’re going to be me?
No, I will not...
I knew I was getting up badly.