Friday's work was hard. He didn't get much sleep the night before, either. She had a beautiful dinner waiting, full of cubed potatoes and bacon bits and red wine vinegar. There was a side of cabbage with sauteed shallots and lemon juice.
An empty plate later, surrounded by dirty dishes, his left for the bedroom. He fell like a timbered log onto the bed. He napped. "Just for five minutes," he said.
She woke him an hour and a half later. The sun was gone.
"Get up," she said. "I've asked you five times now. I'm going to the store to get things for breakfast tomorrow. Come with me."
He rolled over, groggy and impatient.
"Why are you so concerned with me getting up?" he said.
She brushed off his question.
"I'm going to the store. Do you want to come or not?"
"No."
She huffed out and walked out the door.
He pulled himself up and walked to the living room. He saw the kitchen, full of pots and plates and crusty potato skins. The flavors of dinner came to him. The cabbage had been covered with so many shallot pieces. She must have spent a lot of time cutting them, alone.
An empty plate later, surrounded by dirty dishes, his left for the bedroom. He fell like a timbered log onto the bed. He napped. "Just for five minutes," he said.
She woke him an hour and a half later. The sun was gone.
"Get up," she said. "I've asked you five times now. I'm going to the store to get things for breakfast tomorrow. Come with me."
He rolled over, groggy and impatient.
"Why are you so concerned with me getting up?" he said.
She brushed off his question.
"I'm going to the store. Do you want to come or not?"
"No."
She huffed out and walked out the door.
He pulled himself up and walked to the living room. He saw the kitchen, full of pots and plates and crusty potato skins. The flavors of dinner came to him. The cabbage had been covered with so many shallot pieces. She must have spent a lot of time cutting them, alone.
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