“It’s like whatever I do... you just don’t listen!”

He stormed towards the kitchen.

Clattering. Smashing. The hiss of a can.

“What am I meant to do! How can I explain myself!”

I grabbed the remote.


He stumbled through, handing the can to me.

I sipped at it.

He fell into my arms.

Silent. Quiet.

We kept watching the tv.

I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

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