A cup of straight coffee for the lonesome night.
It was a perfect treat for a crying soul – feeding the tainted self with a darker substance.
“Coffee for the night?” Accompanied by his smug look.
I raised my brow. “Drink your wine – it’s aged.”
The click of his tongue against his teeth made me grit my teeth. Its sound came to me as if he was doing the infidelity again – serving me to the police for a crime I did not commit.
He choked. “What is…”
An earsplitting blow onto the floor.
It was the most gratifying evening I had.
WORD COUNT: 100
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