Longing for a break: fantasy/horror

She longed for respite, for a break, almost as much as she longed for freedom. It was the same thing, she supposed, but her field of vision had shrunk down to this--fifteen minutes of freedom, an hour, a day. She could no longer imagine a life without having to face the drear, dire prospect of returning. She would have laughed, a long time ago, to hear others suggesting that drear and dire could ever go together, but this particular bondage was such that it was no longer a laughing matter. She had lost her ability to laugh at her own life. She curled up tighter in the corner when she heard the floorboard creak as he re-entered the house. Maybe--

Inspiration: Wishing and hoping that I don't have to go back in to work tomorrow.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: Meh. Oh, and really, my job isn't *that* bad.