On a hill somewhere in Africa stands a man alone in the dark talking in his cellphone with his woman far away. “Soon enough”, she says to him, “we have to talk again about the next try to meet. But not tonight”, she adds. “If you were here now with me in the dark..?”, he says tempting. And she say “yes yes, I know honey… I know”, and then they smiles – and both can hear the other’s smile. And they are a breath close – no distance between them. And they talk bright and tenderly for an hour – he standing on that hill in the dark night where only the sounds of buzzing insects and distant humans voices can be heard, and she sitting in her sofa in front of the TV showing a detective film with the sound muted and with her calico cat purring in her lap. They kiss their plastic phones “goodnight”, and he walks back to his room to sleep, as always with a tiny trembling worry of losing her, but still happy in the moment and with his whole body warmed inside. That’s what her bright voice brings. And she in her part of the world – she watch the ending of the film but now with the sound on. She has peace for the night from all concerns about their relation and feel open to let things take their course. Some day they will be tight together forever. She almost dares to believe in that now, and she has reached the conclusion that only the cat have the right to dislike it. And if the cat gets it in her own cosy way she won’t bother.