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.
You can read the rest at The Second Road.
