Seven Minutes to Midnight
Jack’s car pulls into his driveway, the garage door’s chipped paint illuminated in two places by bright oval spotlights. The car’s engine turns off, but Jack doesn’t exit for some time. He looks up at the bedroom window directly over the garage from his windshield. The light’s still on. He slowly makes his way out of the car, and onto his front porch. The sensor lights catch him by surprise, as he fumbles around his pockets for his house keys. He enters.
She cozily lays on the bed in a tank top and sweatpants, binge watching True Detective, while Jack looks on. He pulls down the ironing board from the walk in closet’s door, and places a dress shirt atop it. With the iron plugged in, he begins to steam the shirt. Every so often, she glances over, gauging him for an on-screen response, but all Jack does is smile at her off-screen reactions. They both remain tight-lipped about the events of that evening.