“Honestly, Sherl, you don’t
need to check up on me.
I’m fine.”
"You know that doesn’t
work, Molly. Not on
me.“
illness themed starters. ( accepting. )
He does doesn’t look at her, so much
as he glowers at her. He’s still suffering
through the symptoms of a cold, and
the scratchy old chair that he’s currently
perched on offers (( no )) little comfort.
”I’m not entirely sure
that I wasn’t.”
He says, stuffy nose evident.
Bless.
( she who looks gift horses in the mouth):
“Fine. Then remember
that when you’re not
permitted to sleep in my
bed anymore.”
”Fine. But remember
that when you don’t
have someone to
play the violin for
you.“
