[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ . Sorry for the late post again: first test in nursing school and such. But I got a 92% so there’s that!]
It was the crumpled tissues overflowing from the trashcan that gave it away.
“Honey?” I called, setting my keys and messenger bag on the island.
She was sitting on the couch in her sick pants—the pink fluffy fleece with the rotund derby cows—watching Safe Haven on Netflix. An empty tissue box was on the coffee table while another, near empty box was nestled into her lap. She was holding a steaming cup, most likely of Lipton lemon tea with a spoonful of honey. She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and an angry looking nose.
“You okay?” I asked, placing the back of my hand against her forehead.
“I thing I got the flu.” She sniffled loud.
“Scoot over,” is said. “The movie’s just getting good.”