The Day After
I awoke to a blinding light creeping in from below the door. Bare feet cold as they touch wood. Ten paces to the door. Another three to her room. Light on but empty. Moment of fear. Another light from the kitchen. Twelve steps. It’s too bright for this time of day. Where is she? Perched on the couch. Breath returns. “I’m sick.” We can work through this, she will be alright. “What hurts?” “Nose, throat.” She is in the house. The doors are locked. She is covered in a blanket.
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