THE NEXT DAY

The laundry basket hit the floor with a thud. Enora exhaled heavily, bending over the basket in defeat. The journey from her apartment to the elevator and then the laundry room, had been routine for years, and yet somehow, it refused to get easier.

“I may have to invest in one of those foldable carts with the wheels. The old people are onto something.”

The phone rang as she dragged the basket into her room. It was Victor.

“Hello?” ...