I know it! I know it!
This is "The spying game" by Irene Dutch!
Now an easy one:
She refilled the glass, deciding to take it with her back to bed, turned, allowed herself a glance at Clark - and nearly dropped the glass and had to grip it.
Clark was not on the couch. He was over it. Hovering. Floating. Maybe two feet higher than the couch surface, just a bit higher than the couch back. The robe had slipped off him and was lying crumpled on the floor. His back was to her but she could tell he was clutching his pillow. He floated there as though he might actually have been lying on a bed, his legs drawn up a bit, though his back appeared straight, reminding her of one of those orthopedic mattress commercials.
Not wanting to take her eyes off him, she eased forward until she could sense the table and set the glass down there so silently a tomb would envied her.
I can't just *stand* here, I have to *do* something about this... My camera, yes!
Hey, this is fun!
Simona
