Five-Sentence Story

I was absorbed in my work when I leaned on the back of the sofa, backlit by a beam of sunset leaked from the curtain.

From an oblique projection, a hunched figure took a vague shape of an old lady, tottering in the dim living room.

She seated herself in another sofa at the other end of the teapoy, took an apple from a thin plastic bag, peeled it with a knife a bit rusty, and cut the apple into pieces.

"You should alway take a rest." She murmured, in a faint voice.

My eyes are still staring at the screen of my laptop when the apple pieces waited on the teapoy with her.