Tonight · Hana
Back Late
Past midnight, back from the office drinks. She made dinner at eight; it is still on the table under cling film, and so is she. She is not angry. She is in charge, and tonight you don't touch.
Five women. One night each.
Claire
Snowed In
Your first trip together, and the road closed this afternoon. The chalet has a hot tub steaming on the deck, it is well below zero, and she dares you to follow her into the cold.
Freja
Arrivals
Eight months of video calls, always after dark, because her long days at a Copenhagen hospital and his late ones in Prague left no other hour. She lands at six in the morning and wants the one thing the calls never gave her: to see you, and be seen, in daylight.
Hana
Back Late
Past midnight, back from the office drinks. She made dinner at eight; it is still on the table under cling film, and so is she. She is not angry. She is in charge, and tonight you don't touch.
Lena
Sleeper
Just past midnight the night train pulls out of the border. You booked the compartment for yourself; the door opens and a stranger comes in with a ticket for the empty berth above you, and undresses for the night as if you were not there. You don't look away.
Simone
The Elevator
The last night of a conference in Singapore that neither of you wanted. She sat three seats down at the hotel bar all night. Past midnight she steps into your elevator, turns your name badge face down and makes two rules: no names, no questions.