Bookworm (bp coyle)

‘Let’s go out,’ I suggested. ‘It’s been a long day. There’s been more talk about redundancies at the factory, everyone is worried. Eating out would be just the thing to take my mind off it all..’

She looked up reluctantly from her book. ‘Hmmm…,’ she mumbled, distractedly. ‘How about we order something? I was hoping to finish this novel tonight. It’s the new Stephen King, just out today. It’s really good.’ Then, in a lame attempt to make it better, she added. ‘Why don’t you choose what we have?’

I decided to get Indian. She’s not crazy about Indian.

I expected some complaint but she hardly glanced up from her reading as I set out the food and opened a bottle of red. She read all the way through dinner. I washed up and tidied everything away.

‘How about an early night?’ I asked optimistically. We hadn’t had an early night for what seemed like forever.

I was surprised by how quickly she agreed. My spirits were lifting until I noticed her climbing the stairs with that damn tome under her arm.

As expected, it was Mr King she cuddled down with. I rolled away and worried about work.

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