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Chapter Nine

Alfred limped to the table where a fresh mug of coffee awaited him.  As he eased himself onto the dining chair, he noticed Heloise’s satin robe was tied in such a haphazard manner that a rosy nipple was exposed.  She either didn’t notice or she didn’t care as she slid the coffee mug toward her lover without lifting her eyes from the newspaper she was reading.

 He looked at the black liquid and then around the table’s surface for the creamer.  Finding none, he scowled.  “After nearly one hundred years of having coffee together -  that’s thirty-six thousand plus mornings, mind you -  I would think you’d know by now that I take creamer in mine.

“We’re out of creamer,” she said, while keeping her face buried in the paper.

“Is there at least some aspirin?” he practically howled.

Her voice had an amused lilt as she asked him about the condition of his geni

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