Monday, September 7, 2009

Be Careful

Car barely missed the mail box. Took forever to get into the house. Flopped into a chair, mumbling.

“Can I help you to bed?” No response.

She wrapped her arms around him and with a quick lift forced him to the floor. He groaned. She kicked him, hard. Face, stomach. Too much to count. Finally, exhausted she drug him to bed.

Next morning he gently touched his aches, trying to reconstruct the cause. “Hell of a fight last night. Never going back there.” He said as he struggled into a chair.

“Sorry, honey. I keep telling you to be careful.”

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