Cut Deep

The air was thick with pressure as Judy’s driver drove home from work that evening. It had been a long, tiring day, and all she needed was to break down into the arms of her husband, Tyrone, and let the stretch of the day soften absent.

But as she pulled into the garage of their house, a bothering feeling crawled up her spine. Something felt off, in spite of the fact that she couldn’t very put her finger on it.

The neighborhood was calm, the warm shine of the setting sun casting long shadows over the road. Judy stopped her car and sat for a minute, taking a profound breath. She shook off the unease, ascribing it to nothing more than fatigue. But as she opened the entryway and ventured into the interior, the feeling returned, more grounded than some time recently.

The living room was abnormally noiseless, apart from the suppressed sound of the tv playing within the living room. Judy set her keys on the table and slipped off her shoes, her movements moderate and considerate. She felt