Eric stepped into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with the soft finality of solitude. The moments of the day settled on his shoulders like a shroud. Fatigue clawed at him from every joint and sinew, dragging him forward until he collapsed onto the couch. His face buried in the familiar softness of the cushions, the quiet hum of the room offered no solace.
|Dad, did you hear what Al just said|
His eyes snapped open, head jerking upright. The voice... her voice. His daughter's sweet, curious tone echoed as if it had drifted from the hallway. But it wasn't real. Just a desperate illusion conjured from the ache of missing them, his children, off chasing excellence at the academy, far from his reach.
"Sigh… The life of a man living alone really isn't made for the faint-hearted," he murmured, running a tired hand down his face.
