Adultery Nalini and The Unseen Virus

[tweeny_fory]

Part 2:

Nalini's days were a blur of chores and routines, punctuated by the monotonous hum of the news channel that she kept on for company. The faces on the screen talked of rising cases and overwhelmed hospitals, painting a grim picture of the world outside. She found solace in the kitchen, her hands moving deftly as she prepared meals that once were feasts for four but now served only one. Each bite she took was a silent toast to her family's safety and health. The clank of her utensils and the sizzle of spices in the pan were the only conversations she had.

The afternoons were the hardest. She would sit in the veranda, her eyes scanning the empty street, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that would break the monotony. Sometimes she'd spot the stray cat that had started visiting, its fur a mottled gray and white, purring for food. She'd give it a bowl of milk and watch as it lapped it up with surprising grace. Other times, she'd just sit, her eyes on the horizon, where the city's smog had parted to reveal a clear blue sky, a rare sight in the pre-pandemic days. Her thoughts would drift to her husband, stuck in a hotel room in Bangalore, his face etched with the lines of worry and stress from work and isolation.

On what was to become an infamous day, she heard the creak of the front gate, a sound that had become almost as rare as the chaiwala's cart. She tensed, the quietude of the house suddenly feeling like a cocoon about to be torn apart. Two men, faces masked, and dressed in worn-out clothes, approached the door. One held a clipboard, the other a bag that clinked suspiciously with every step. They claimed to be from the local health department, here to conduct a surprise COVID-19 inspection. The government had announced random checks, so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but on hearing covid and the inspection a shiver down her spine.