Wally sat at the dining table with you, taking in the way you looked for the hundredth time. He stared down at the table, taking in a deep breath. The two of you had been trapped in Home for what seemed like years for Wally, but only a day for you. The day repeated over and over again. The same as usual, nothing ever changing and him never trying to spark a new conversation.

As usual, he looked up at the clock then spoke, “How is the food I prepared for you?” He questioned.