I got home from work tonight, and I made myself a sandwich. I sat in the kitchen floor, and I ate it. He was in the living room, and I didn’t want to be around him. It seemed ok to sit in the kitchen floor and eat my sandwich.
He came into the kitchen and asked me what I was doing. I found myself telling him the truth, and it was surprising to me how easily it came, and how well it was received.
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