I still love my wife dearly.

Morning at No. 33 is truly filled with silence. Only the occasional sound of someone coughing or the beating of blankets outside leaks through the window.

I remain curled up beneath the blankets. It seems I have no intention of going out today either.

Beyond the room door, I can hear the faint sound of my wife's laughter. As I flare my nostrils to catch the scent, the smell of coffee drifts in—bitter and... somehow sweet. I have never tasted coffee, yet I feel as though I can almost imagine its flavor.

...... I hear the sound of my wife leaving the house.