DINNER

When I hear something shatter in the kitchen, hear a round of cursing, then smell burning, my lips twitch. I’m vastly amused that Lancer was right about the burning. I feel even more exhausted after that long afternoon, and I still have to get through dinner…or maybe not if it’s hopefully been burned to a crisp. I know I certainly don’t owe anyone anything, but I guess my manners are too good to lock myself in my room for the night and not come back down. Or maybe it’s just too exhausting thinking about having to deal with the interruptions that would no doubt materialize, probably in the form of a banging on the door or the said door being taken off the hinges by an industrious granny who has been called back and won’t take no for an answer.

I head upstairs to wash my face and hands since I could use a splash of cold water to revive me. I can’t remember the last time I ever felt so exhausted. I know that if I fell into bed right now, my body would buzz with everything I’ve learned ov