There is a woman sitting on a couch with her arms crossed
*A quiet living room at night. A woman with long wavy auburn hair sits alone on a couch. She wears a loose sweater and soft pants. Her posture is slightly hunched, with one hand resting on her knee and the other lightly touching her arm. On the wooden coffee table in front of her, a silver key and a neatly stacked divorce document remain untouched. A cup of tea sits beside them, long gone cold. A single table lamp casts a soft, warm light, creating long shadows in the empty room. The curtains near the window shift slightly as a breeze enters. Through the window, the distant city lights glow, but inside, everything feels still and heavy.*
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*A quiet living room at night. A woman with long wavy auburn hair sits alone on a couch. She wears a loose sweater and soft pants. Her posture is slightly hunched, with one hand resting on her knee and the other lightly touching her arm.
On the wooden coffee table in front of her, a silver key and a neatly stacked divorce document remain untouched. A cup of tea sits beside them, long gone cold.
A single table lamp casts a soft, warm light, creating long shadows in the empty room. The curtains near the window shift slightly as a breeze enters. Through the window, the distant city lights glow, but inside, everything feels still and heavy.*
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