I nodded for the umpteenth time, throwing in a supplementary “Yes dear” to signal attention-paying. Smoking is a bad habit. My dear wife warmed even more to her topic. The worst thing about this conversation and all its predecessors was that there was nothing really to disagree with. All the points she made, approached as they were from a wide variety of angles, made sense, as indeed they had done the day before, and the day before that...
When I, a wrung out dishcloth, returned to my study, I found my secret packet of cigarettes. She meant well, I knew.
When I, a wrung out dishcloth, returned to my study, I found my secret packet of cigarettes. She meant well, I knew.
