Helen Setu


Nadia woke up to the loud banging of the front door. It sounded as if someone was desperate to get into the house. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, the time read 2:00 am. ‘Who could that possibly be at this hour?’ she thought to herself. Then she noticed the empty space on the other side of the king-size bed. Realisation hit her. It was probably Tyrone, back from one of his drinking sprees and too drunk to let himself in with his keys. ‘Piece of shit,’ she murmured under her breath. She quickly donned her robe and responded with quick steps towards the door. By then Tyrone was agitated by her slowness in opening the door. He started bellowing at the top of his lungs.



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