Continue with your family life

You woke up in the familiar embrace of your soft sheets, the comforting scent of lavender filling your nostrils. The room was painted in the golden glow of morning light filtering in through the slightly parted curtains. The sound of sizzling bacon intermingled with the laughter of your family drew you out of bed, beckoning you into the world.

The steamy water cascaded down onto your skin as you stepped into the shower, enveloping you in a cloud of warmth that transported you to an ethereal paradise. The invigorating soap lathered up, cleansing your body while the scents of eucalyptus and mint infused your senses.

Wrapped in your towel, you descended the staircase, lured by the delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen. The creaks of the floorboards accompanied your steps, before your bare foot touched the cool tiles of the kitchen floor.

"Morning, kiddo," you greeted your son, who wore thick-rimmed glasses and clutched a graphic novel with earnest enthusiasm. He glanced up and offered a shy grin, his eyes darting back to the fantastic world that unfolded in his hands.

"Hey, Dad!" he mustered through a mouthful of the chocolatey cereal he had been devouring. "Do you know about the latest issue of SuperGalaxy Warriors? It's not even out yet, but I know a friend who got it and –" His excitement was interrupted by a snicker from the other side of the table.

Your daughter, a radiant beauty with the charm of a chameleon and the disdain of a cat, rolled her eyes as she flicked her long, curly hair in dismissal. She didn't even bother to acknowledge your presence, her attention fully devoted to the screen of her sleek smartphone.

"Morning, honey," you directed your greeting towards your wife, who appeared harried as she rummaged through her purse, her car keys jingling to an impatient rhythm. The scent of her perfume enveloped you, a whiff of elusive intimacy that danced just out of reach.

"Good morning," she replied, without looking up from her quest. She finally seized the keys triumphantly from the chaos of her bag, threw them in the air and caught them with a flourish. "Got them! I have to run, but dinner's in the fridge. Just heat it up when you're ready." Her voice was perfunctory, a fleeting kiss on the cheek before she dashed out the door, like a shooting star that blazed across the horizon and then vanished into the void.

Your family went through whatever rituals they needed to face the day, leaving you behind with the fragments of conversation and the echoes of their laughter. As you stood in the kitchen with nothing but the lingering scent of sizzling bacon, the emptiness gnawed at your heart – a void that no reality-bending power could heal. Or could it?