by Andrew W
|I can clean the floor, but I can’t wash away the memory. I wouldn’t have done it, if she didn’t get me so mad. But as I continue to clean, I calm down. I realize it was not her fault. I overreacted and regret my actions.
“Honey, you missed a spot under the stove.”
“Thanks. Why don’t you order a pizza, while I still clean the floor?”
“Ok, that sounds fine. You know, with the red sauce on the floor, it almost looks like a murder scene.”
As she walks away, I laugh while glaring at her.
“Yes. A murder scene indeed.”