It was a quiet Sunday morning around 10:00. Holly was making breakfast for herself. She was still dressed in her pajamas and bathrobe.
There was a knock on her door. Opening it, she saw Paul.
"Morning, Fred."
"Hi, Holly. Can I look at your hands, for a moment?"
She waved them in front of him. "There you go."
"Thanks. Now, can I see your feet?"
This surprised her! "Huh?!"
"Please, Holly?"
"Well, ok."
She took her slippers off. He looked down at her feet. "Oh, that's a relief! You see, I had a nightmare about you, last night; I dreamt that your hands and feet were horribly disfigured!"
"And you just had to come over and make sure that they weren't, is that right?"
He laughed. "Sorry about that, Holly!"
She smiled. "No problem. That was sweet of you, in fact! Come on in, I'm making breakfast."
"Thanks."
He walked in. She put her shoes back on and went back into the kitchen.
"One question, though," she said. "Would you still love me, if I had disfigured hands and feet?"
"Yes, of course. But I'm certainly glad they aren't; in fact, you have very pretty hands and feet!"
"Oh, Fred!"
