The Evening Meal
“That was the best meal you’ve ever made. Much better than the usual shit you dish up.” he laughed.
An hour later, he was sprawled out on the sofa, sweating, panting and complaining of stomach cramps.
“What the hell is wrong with me? It must be your bloody cooking, you useless bitch.”
“I followed the recipe to the letter… well, I only added one extra thing.” she said honestly.
“What? Tell me, what?”
Tumbling to the floor in agony, he tried to crawl over to where she sat. She smiled at him and continued with her knitting.