Visiting Hours

The downstairs felt desolate, barren, signs of life every to be seen but not a single soul to be found. 

For the time being, all daily routines had to be put on hold according to the monthly procedure, and as such the crisp sizzling sounds of breakfast was nowhere to be heard in the kitchen, the usual morning broadcast on the television instead replaced by a silent black mirror, and the only footsteps that seem to squeak the creaky, worn floorboards were Ash's and my own.

Of course… everyone else's upstairs currently, they're always upstairs. For an hour, sometimes two, just to give some assurances, offer some support, and maybe indirectly, to even receive some ourselves…

Except, apparently this time, a certain stubborn somebody was seemingly recently depleted of all assurances and support to give.

"Oh, you're back. About time. Had fun? Hope you did. Did you?"