Mabel
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It was a morning like every other morning, I was brewing coffee, humming my favorite song. The toast popped up from the machine. As I picked it up my hand stung, and quickly tossed it onto the plate.
He usually had his breakfast in the dining room. I wondered why he was in his bedroom today.
I placed both the plate of bread and the cup of coffee on the tray. Curling my fingers at the edge of the tray, I lifted it and headed out of the kitchen.
My footsteps felt lights against the floor, as I ascended the stairs. The long corridor stretched before me and when I reached our room, I kicked it open with my leg.
Sammy, my husband wasn’t there. I dropped the tray on the desk, beside the open laptop.
There was no sound coming from the bathroom, so he wasn’t there.
About to
