And then we fell asleep, sprawled there among the Scrabble letters and the empty wineglasses, and when I woke up again, the sky outside was already starting to lighten. My right hand had fallen asleep, and when I touched it with the fingers of the left the sensation was chilling, like touching the hand of a dead person. I untangled myself from Victor and shook it until the feeling came back. I had a headache, and my mouth was dry, so I got up to get some water from the kitchen. When I came back, the television was mutely flickering, and in its light I saw the gas mask lying on its side by Victor’s face. I picked it up and turned it over, and then I slipped it over my face. It was snug inside, safe like a catcher’s mask, and I lay down on my back, blinking up through the eyeholes. I wondered how long it would be until we knew what it was we were going to need to learn to protect ourselves from, or if it was too late, if the only ones who would survive were those who had been training all the while, with reflective clothing and superior lungs. Maybe whatever it was had already seeped through the cracks of the windows and the door. But I was drowsy, and too tired to object. Without turning to look, I moved my hand until my fingertips touched Victor’s cheek. Then I closed my eyes to wait, grateful for what was left of the dark.

The next morning was Saturday, and we woke up to the news that the whole thing had been some sort of test. Victor perched on the edge of the couch, his hair sticking up as if he had fought a windstorm to make it through to daybreak. He held the coffee mug between his hands and took little sips, his gaze fixed on the television. After I got out of the shower, I sat down next to him. The mayor was giving a press conference, explaining how they’d wanted to make certain that the city was prepared. We were instructed to keep the masks in a safe and dry place where we would be able to find them easily. He apologized for any inconvenience or unnecessary fright the test had caused anyone, thanked all of the volunteers, and congratulated the city for the admirable way it had performed in test conditions. When the reporters began to bark out questions, I went to the kitchen to pour myself some coffee, and when I switched on the radio, the mayor’s answers echoed through the apartment in an eerie duet.