she is in her thirties she sits on the floor with a bottle of wine under the crook of one arm her bare toes massaging the carpet her bare cheek pressed against the cool windowpane and the clack of the typewriter fills the room he looks at her and smiles she smiles back this is love here in this room filling all of the world their new home their new place in the world to her it feels so right so whole she watches him write the wine is pleasantly bitter on her tongue he writes until he can not and he frowns at the page and she rises to cross the room and wrap her arms around his neck he asks her to read it to tell him what she thinks of it and she does she leans forward and types the first sentence of the next paragraph and looks at him with one eyebrow cocked he reads it and laughs thank you sweetheart he says and brushes a kiss against her cheek you 're right you 're right that 's it he laughs she smiles she hugs him feels the warmth of his body filling her the sunset is streaming red and gold through the window and they are here creating together and there ink-wet on the page is their child taking slow shape taking form coming into the world now they look into each other 's eyes and smile this is real this is real love .