I lie here alone, anxious about today. Your words are in my head as my hand holds my breast. I try to imagine what your touch will feel like as I roll, pinch, and squeeze. Your voice in my head, even though I have never heard you speak.

Fingers drag along my abdomen to where my hair starts. I pause, and with one finger, I part my lips. As your words tell me, I stroke over my button. The moisture emerges as I move lower toward my opening. One finger entering as the phone rings.

Your flight is on time.