It is night.  You are laying in bed.  The rising moon makes your curtains glow with a faint luminance.  Your mind and body are at rest.  You hear your wife breath in slow rhythm.  You think she is asleep.

Then in the dark you hear your wife’s voice.  “Good deeds pierce the veil,” she says.  Her voice, the scene, the truth of what she says–it carries conviction.  Her hand finds yours.