Chapter 1 - Static and Linen
Click.
Click.
The black plastic of the remote yielded under his thumb.
Blue light from the screen flickered across his face, casting long, sharp shadows against the white walls.
He leaned deeper into the grey cushions.
Behind him, the floorboards let out a low groan.
She shifted her stance.
The edge of the white laundry basket dug a red line into her hip.
Her knuckles strained, pale and tight against the plastic rim.
A damp sleeve trailed over the edge, dripping a single drop of water onto the rug.
She exhaled.
The sound barely cut through the canned laughter of the television.
He didn't turn around.
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Small, heavy footsteps padded across the floor.
Rubber soles squeaked slightly against the wood.
