Prompt courtesy of Velvet Verbosity’s 100 word challenge.
And then the lights went out.
Rosemary and David sat at the small kitchen table, forks and knives posed above their dinners. In the darkness, they let the masks they wore these past fifteen years slip. They each breathed deep.
The silence settled on their shoulders like an old wool sweater. They sat there, eating slowly, savouring each bite, suddenly aware of the smells and small sounds that always existed, if they’d ever cared to stop and listen.
The married couple softened and despite themselves, began appreciating neither one lived alone in the dark.
And then the lights came on.