Queen size.

I've haven't gotten over my fear of sleeping in marriage beds. The mattress continent to the left still scares me. I only sleep on the wife's side, because anything further would feel indelicate. I want to treat their sex as sacred. I have been awoken by a golden retriever licking my ear. Fat cat flopped on my face with a paw to the jugular and by the 4th night I didn't even scream. After 3 years sleeping in the same room and 9 months in this queen bed, Liz mostly refuses to cuddle with me but we've had our pillow chats and she amuses my insomnia with semi-conscious mutterings.

I just don't know what to do with all that extra space, you know?

My childhood loft is perched upstairs with the names of first crushes scratched into the rails.

I felt protected by those boards. A sleeping ship on the monster's high seas. Used the space well-- me, Spot, BunBun and KeeKee, Crayola Bear, Kissybears and Ladybug.

The perfect height for hug-mug-mug and a reading nook below.

I am a hugging little kicker. I have a sleeping affinity for the diagonal, the criss-cross, the slant-ways. I steal the sheets and leave the covers, tasting the midnight air for better dreams.