Colourless

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She wasn't strong. Muscles had long disappeared into the fatty arms. Yet, she had swung the heavy can of cream well. It hit his forehead with an impressive sound.

"Is this how you cook?" She yelled at him, hitting with a spatula now.

A woman was supposed to be weaker. A woman was supposed to practise more self-restraint. Maybe she wasn't a woman. Maybe he was the one, silently in pain now, fearing an internal bleeding. He should be angry too. When fiercely attacked, anyone would retaliate, punching the face out of his abuser.

"I'll cook you another one." He replied softly.

She waddled off back into the living room. Her heavy bottom made the armchair trembled. Like him, it reluctantly obeyed her as she returned to her favourite tv drama.

He sighed. Anger was messy. He was the neat and organized type.

"Yes, dear, I'm cooking it now." He said when she yelled again.

He had once loved her, poured his soul into pleasing her. Now, he poured a colourless liquid into her new dish. The smell of bitter almonds was familiar only to him. After all, a chemist knew a lot about clear, colourless liquids, especially the ones that killed lab mice instantly.

"Time to eat, sayang," he announced, serving his cool apathy in a beautiful dish.


The End

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