Oliver staggered residence late.
Very late.
He had fallen someplace alongside the way in which.
Didn’t bear in mind the place.
However positively felt it.
Within the toilet, he checked the injury.
A scrape.
Not horrible.
However noticeable.
He seemed on the mirror.
Paused.
Thought.
Fastidiously, very fastidiously…
he cleaned the wound.
Utilized antiseptic.
Added bandages.
He nodded at his reflection.
Drawback solved.
His spouse, Sophie, was asleep.
Good.
Disaster prevented.
He slipped into mattress quietly.
Smiling.
Morning got here.
Sophie was already awake.
Standing within the toilet.
Silent.
Too silent.
Oliver stretched.
Pretended every part was regular.
“What’s flawed?” he requested.
Sophie didn’t flip round.
“Did you get drunk final evening?”
Oliver laughed.
Too quick.
“No.”
Pause.
Sophie slowly turned.
“Actually?”
Oliver nodded.
Assured.
“Then…” she stated,
“…who cleaned the wound…”
Pause.
“…on the mirror?”
Silence.
Oliver blinked.
Sophie crossed her arms.
“As a result of,” she added calmly,
“somebody disinfected and bandaged the cupboard door.”
Lengthy silence.
Oliver seemed towards the toilet.
Nonetheless pleased with himself.
Simply… much less sure.
