oncoming_storms Prompt 45

Susan was washing the dishes when she received the call from Gallifrey.

It was a ridiculously domestic image, as well as an unnecessary one. By the 22nd century, machinery had rendered most chores irrelevant, but, from time to time, Susan liked to do them herself. After all, nothing brought you down to Earth more than ironing.

The plate fell from her hands, shattering as it hit the ground in a shower of bubbles and lukewarm water. David came rushing in a moment later to find his wife leaning against the draining board with her head in her hands.

“Susan?” he asked, touching her shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes and suds in her hair. Her beloved husband. Older now, but not old. Not yet. There were traces of grey in his hair, and fine lines around his eyes, but his smile hadn’t changed.

Her lips formed the words before her brain had really processed the question, let alone the event that had prompted it.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about me, David.”

( They came for her three days later. )

Prompt: My life is changing every day.
Word Count: 1034