Some domestic disputes are loud.Some just involve silent sock theft and a drawer full of questions. Story:She held the socks like forensic evidence.Grey. Slightly stretched. Questionable origin.He shrugged.“They were in my drawer.” Ah yes. The sacred drawer.Where all things are legally transferred via proximity.Possession: 9/10ths of the laundry. They weren’t even good socks.But now, they…
It started with a banana.It became a logistical saga with multiple casualties. Story:She offered a banana.A whole banana.Peel intact. No drama. But no.He wanted a smoothie. Fine. She pivoted.Banana. Berries. Blender. “I want the blue cup,” he said.Not just any blue cup. The blue cup.Which was, of course, missing. Eventually recovered from behind the couch,half-full…
Some sentences lose their meaning over time.This one never had a chance. Story:She had said the words so many times they’d stopped sounding like language.The couch is not a trampoline.Not a trampoline.Not a bounce house.Not a soft launchpad for questionable decisions. And yet—her daughter bounced. Hair wild. Socks abandoned.Launching herself joyfully into the air while…