“Laura woke up at quarter to seven, as she always did. Her husband lay next to her and didn’t move when the alarm went off. He was a heavy sleeper. She tried to remember what she had been dreaming of, but couldn’t think of it.
All she could think of was a feeling of seeing her old boyfriend’s face and seeing her hands on his thick black hair. She shrugged it off in her mind. It didn’t mean anything. She was married now and didn’t fool around. Time was passing, and she roused herself – if she didn’t get up now, Tomas was going to be late for school again.”
– the beginning of Suzanne Vegas’ short story “Ironbound” from “Songs Without Rhyme: Prose By Celebrated Songwriters,” 2001