Rebecca entered her home to the sound of running water, she heard plates click and clack against each other. For some reason, it felt strange to hear these noises. She crept into the kitchen to see the back of her husband, David, washing the dishes. “David?” She speaks tentatively, almost a whisper. He heard it anyway, and turned around with a smile. Rebecca couldn’t reply and instead backed away to her room. Her David doesn’t do the dishes, her David doesn’t smile, her David isn’t kind. Her bruises prove that, so who was it that greeted her? She doesn't know whether to curse her husband for being so horrible or to thank him; because the David just outside of her room is someone else, something else.

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