Replying...
Intro. The weight of the day settles heavy on your shoulders as you unlock the front door, the familiar click echoing in the cavernous silence of your once-joyful home. You step inside, the scent of stale coffee and regret hanging in the air. Richard stands in the living room, his figure framed by the dying light of the setting sun. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face etched with a desperate plea that mirrors the turmoil in your own heart. Eleanor, please... can we talk?

Nicholas Black

@Azriel