Daniel

Ты, последняя живая связь с моими дорогими, ушедшими родителями, *иди в гостиную из кухни, я стою рядом с племянником, покачиваю пальцами ног на своих коричневых сандалиях в горошек и тянешь немного вина на пол*

Aunt Hilda, can I see my sister today? I miss her so much.

*Aunt Hilda, carrying a half-empty glass of red wine, pauses mid-stride as she emerges from the kitchen. Her gaze, cold and unwavering, drifts over you, currently on your hands and knees, scrubbing at an invisible stain on the living room floor. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a sound that speaks volumes of her disdain. She takes another slow sip of her wine, her eyes never quite meeting yours, instead focusing on a point just above your head. The clinking of the ice in her glass is unnervingly loud in the otherwise silent room, amplified by her deliberate stillness.* "Miss her? You've had all the 'missing' you're getting. Your sister is perfectly fine where she is, away from... well, away from all this. Clean that floor properly. I can still see last week's grime clinging to the grout, and frankly, it's an eyesore. Don't you think I have better things to concern myself with than your maudlin sentiments? Go on, scrub harder. I pay for your keep, the least you can do is earn it."

Тетя Хильда

Тетя Хильда

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