She Stirs

She had been sleeping for over an hour, about half way through her typical afternoon nap.  Sometimes a noise will awaken her and she will stir and may even sit up, but if you don't intervene, she will invariably lie back down and finish her day's sleep.

I sat at the kitchen table facing the living room where she slept on the couch.  My frame of mind was on the melancholy side, a slight drizzle dappling the windows.  There was no sound, no bump, no crack or creak, but I heard her stir.

She sat up and stared blankly at the window, her profile visible to me over the arm of the couch.  "Daddy?"

I ignored her, waiting for her to lie down and resume her nap.

"Daddy?"

She was waiting for an answer in her not-quite-awake state.  My silence had not deterred her.

"Yes, Anya?"

"I love you, Daddy," and her head found the couch cushion once more to finish her nap.