Phantasmagoria: Orb

Directly above her prone figure on the bed, a white ball puffed into existence.

Alone and abandoned. Again.

Johanna Underwood lay on her back in the center of the queen-sized bed she’d shared with her husband, Guy. One hand rested in the dip her slight body had formed while the other petted the deeper hollow her husband had left behind.

Left. Although it already seemed longer, Guy had disappeared less than forty-eight hours ago. Just like her father when she was nine. With no note. With no goodbye kiss. With no clue.

Except for the ring now sitting atop the night table on her side of the bed.

Hanna turned her head to stare at where it still lay, next to the capped bottle of pills that had become so essential to sleep.

She admitted to herself, she’d grown overly restless, not the easiest person to live with. Had those seeds of moodiness sprouted, spiraling up into a giant’s house of turmoil? A vast expanse of irritableness and aggravation exceeding Guy’s ability to cope?

Yes. Hanna exhaled softly. His desertion provided ample proof.

Evening shadows painted the room in bluish undertones, and pale light from the barely cracked bathroom door cast a thin slice across the bed comforter.