Nothing felt like going home after being hospitalised. The prospect of a better and healthier future lay ahead. But Stephanie didn't feel it.
"Maybe it's my trust issue, but I don't believe in what the doctor had said," she sighed as Mark helped her rearrange the house. It was amazing to know how dust was sentient. Those pesky little things knew that the people of their home were away for a few days and they started gathering on the floor, on the furniture tops, leaving a streak of the clean area underneath if one swiped their finger over.
"What would you like to eat?" Mark asked. Stephanie might wallow in a spiral of doubt and sickness-induced anxiety. He attempted to fill her mind with productive thoughts first, deprecation later.
Stephanie had no preference. Her appetite was at an all-time low, she didn't want to voice it out for fear of making Mark worry more.
