Ciabatta

It's late, the room is warm and dark, the bed soft, my eyes are closed. I can hear little freckles of rain tapping on the window and the house settling down for the night like an old dog: gentle groans from rheumatic floorboards and the rhythmic breathing of the boiler. In the bowels of the house the dishwasher beeps, another cycle finished, it's been a long day but now everything is done. The oblivion of sleep welcomes me like a long-lost lover.........

'Are you awake?' whispers my wife

'Wha?'

'Are you awake?'

'Nur'

'Jay you'll never grow a beard will you?'

'Urgh?'

'You'll never grow a beard will you?'

'What are you saying to me?'

'A beard. You'll never grow a beard will you?'

'No, I will never grow a beard. Sleeptime now.'

'It's just I had a patient in today who had a beard and it was horrible.'

'Let's talk about beards in the morning okay. Sleeptime.'

'He had really long hair too, he looked like Ciabatta.'

'What?'

'He looked like Ciabatta.'

"Ciabatta?"

"Ciabatta!"

'How can a human being possibly resemble Ciabatta?'

'This one did!'

'Italian flatbread ciabatta?'

'No you idiot! Ciabatta - from StarWars'

'Ah Chewbacca.'

'That's the one. Anyway don't grow a beard.'

And with that she is asleep, instantly.

Leaving me alone with the night rain, scanning the ether for oblivion, sadly sleep is now in a galaxy far far away........