Sunday Six Sentences
It feels unreal, waking up in a half-empty bed. Trudging down to the kitchen to make coffee for one. Listening for the sound of the shower in the bathroom and then-silence.
She’ll need to get Henry up in a little while, but for now, Regina flips through the mail from yesterday, placing the things that still arrive for Emma to the side. Emma’s change of address still hasn’t caught hold, it seems. Maybe Henry will be willing to take the mail to Emma. Regina would, but just the thought of seeing Emma-she still doesn’t know if she wants to cry or scream or burn something down.
Maybe all of them. Or nothing at all because Regina is trying still, holding out for the hope that she can forgive, that they can get normal back.
She glances at the coffee pot and heads for the stairs. Another day, and she just needs to breathe through each moment.
Breathe and smile and pretend like nothing is wrong.
She’ll need to get Henry up in a little while, but for now, Regina flips through the mail from yesterday, placing the things that still arrive for Emma to the side. Emma’s change of address still hasn’t caught hold, it seems. Maybe Henry will be willing to take the mail to Emma. Regina would, but just the thought of seeing Emma-she still doesn’t know if she wants to cry or scream or burn something down.
Maybe all of them. Or nothing at all because Regina is trying still, holding out for the hope that she can forgive, that they can get normal back.
She glances at the coffee pot and heads for the stairs. Another day, and she just needs to breathe through each moment.
Breathe and smile and pretend like nothing is wrong.