People often overlook the fact that marriage may occasionally become a war where even compassion can become a trigger when they claim it’s nice. I arrived home early that night. I had brought my spouse some flowers. Two cooked corn cobs and a soda, no flowers. Back then, that was our language of love. Or so I believed. The fragrance of garlic and fried onions filled the house. I smiled as I entered.
I took off my shoes and remarked, “Baby, you did a great job cooking today.” He made a sudden turn. His eyes were bewildered. He questioned, “What do you mean that I cooked well today?” I chuckled. I assumed he was kidding. “I mean, it smells good. The cuisine will be pleasant. At that point, he grabbed a ripe banana from the table and hurled it directly at my face. It splashed across my cheek. To read more click here.