Story 56
āHerā
When I came home, she was there again, waiting for me at the apartment door.
āWelcome home!!ā
Her cheerful voice healed me.
āIām back,ā I answered.
āDinnerās ready!ā
The red checkered apron suited her perfectlyāshe looked wonderful.
Her long hair was tied back, her sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
There was a pleasant aroma in the air.
She mustāve been cooking the whole time I was gone.
Without even changing clothes, I sat down to eat.
Ginger pork, miso soup, and spinach ohitashi.
āItās delicious,ā I said, complimenting her cooking.
āRight? Thereās more if you want!ā
Smiling brightly, she went to the kitchen and brought me secondsāmore rice and pork.
After dinner, I went straight to take a bath.
Without thinking, I slid open the frosted glass door of the bathroomā
āand there she was, hanging from the ceiling.
Ah.
That againā¦
I snapped back to myself.
Iād seen it again.
The usual illusion.
Iām a 25-year-old single woman.
Thereās no girlfriend who cooks for me.