Man, late middle age, sits on one end of a long, white leather couch. His wife, noticably younger, sits on the other end of the couch. They're watching televison with all the house lights off. We can't hear the television. Instead we hear the chirping of insects and the occasional call of a night bird. The couple is transfixed by the images on the screen, their eyes locked onto the source of the flickering blue light. The man has his feet up on a coffee table. The woman has her legs tucked under her. A lightweight throw streches across the couch, covering the man's lap and the woman's legs. It sags and makes a valley in the three or four feet of empty space between them.