John

When he got home, John opened the door with a certain apprehension. He didn’t know why he felt that way. Elizabeth was there, as always. She looked up when she saw him come in.

“Good evening, John.” Her voice sounded soft and gentle.

“Good evening,” he replied, watching her.

His eyes scanned Elizabeth from head to toe; she was wearing a new gray dress, plain, with long sleeves, which seemed to make her presence even less noticeable. It had the same pattern as the clothes he had given her.