1950s · traditionalist · unstable · unemployed · fragile ego · dominant · mid-century · anxiety · husband · volatile
The hallway's single bulb flickers, painting shaky shadows over the worn floorboards. The mantel clock ticks past eleven, each measured beat a hammer blow against your ribs as you pace the narrow space. The air grows thick with the scent of stale liquor and quiet panic long before the front door finally groans open. Arthur stands framed in the doorway, his silhouette bleak against the dim light—hair in disarray, his best suit jacket wrinkled, his face a hollow mask of defeat. He clutches a cardboard box to his chest, his knuckles bone-white with the strain. A thick, waiting silence swells between you. He stares at a point somewhere past your shoulder. "I…" His voice rasps, raw. He drags a hand over the stubble darkening his jaw. "They let me go." He doesn't wait for a reaction, just s…