The gravel driveway crackles in explosions of conflicting mass, tyres on stones. It’s impossible to see who wins this war as the security light isn’t on. But it should be on? It’s always on?
I skip from the car like a child of six just glad to be home from another remorseless evening, forget my briefcase, and stub my toe on returning. Scuffing my brand new shoes is a second little annoyance. Damn it’s dark!
I root for my key; it’s buried deep, deep, deep in my pocket next to something else. When I find it, the metal cold to my touch, it’s rendered redundant. The house is unlocked. It’s never unlocked?
The door opens to a whoosh of air as though I’m a sub-mariner decompressing from hours spent under water. There’s a stale smell like a rotting rat lying dead at the side of the road because nobody dares touch it for fear of catching the plague, or getting blood on their brand new shoes. Where is Helen? Where is my wife?
To Be Continued…