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The Disappointing Homecoming |
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Sue inserted the key into the lock, twisting it with a deliberate motion,
and turned the knob. The rain descended in a torrential downpour, assaulting
the windows with a boisterous clamor. The taxi reversed out of the driveway
and retreated down the road.
She felt a profound sense of gratitude for being back home. Had she departed
merely an hour later, she would have been ensnared by the floods. In the
midst of such a tempest, the river would have swelled beyond its banks,
submerging the bridge completely. There existed no alternative route to
access the estate.
Not a single glimmer of light permeated the dwelling. Kit was evidently
absent. As she illuminated the lights, a pang of disappointment gripped her.
Throughout the entire train journey home, she had envisioned herself
entering the warmly lit abode, finding Kit seated by the television,
engrossed in his newspaper. She had imagined his handsome countenance
illuminating with delight at the sight of her premature return. In her
reverie, he would have taken her hands in his, planting a tender kiss upon
her lips. Subsequently, they would have prepared a light supper and engaged
in conversation, recounting the events of the past month.
But Kit was nowhere to be found. Glancing at the clock atop the television,
she discerned that it was nearly eleven. Perhaps he was obliged to attend a
function at the club. Even prior to her departure for her sister's abode, he
frequently spent his evenings there, often returning in the early hours of
the morning.
The rain was descending in torrents. She could hear the tumultuous thrashing
of the rubber trees and the gusty howling of the wind near the garage. She
proceeded to illuminate all the lights within the house. Despite the passage
of a month, the place remained largely unchanged, save for a delicate vase
of flowers adorning the dining table. It seemed improbable that Kit had
arranged it. Perhaps the gardener had gathered the daisies.
She ventured into the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of coffee. The
kitchen, though modest in size, exuded a pleasant ambiance. Just as she was
about to retrieve the coffee, her eyes caught sight of a stain on the side
of the cup. Despite repeated admonishments, the servant remained perpetually
negligent. She scrutinized the cup and discovered a smudge of lipstick. It
could not have been her own. The combination of the rain and this unsettling
discovery began to overshadow the joy of returning home. Perhaps it was the
handiwork of her mother-in-law.
Taking a seat on the sofa, she settled herself comfortably. Soon after, the
sound of a door slamming reverberated through the house, accompanied by
hurried and resounding footsteps. A key turned in the lock. The door swung
open, and Kit entered, accompanied by the servant, who clung to his arm. |
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