Making food always made him feel both happy and sad.
Every morsel that left his kitchen was a love note to those who ordered it.
A loving response was an empty plate that came back, ready to be cleaned for a new missive.
Leaving food on the plate meant rejection and left him wondering what went wrong.
She looked at her client perched on her couch. “Tell me again what’s wrong?”
He didn’t dignify her with a response.
“Really? You don’t want to say anything?”
It didn’t seem to alter his disposition. He closed his eyes to slits and stared at her
Now these were the times she wished she had thought about this if this was the right career for her
Knowing this, would she have not gone into cat psychology? Probably not. Mr. Butters left the couch and jumped onto her lap as if to seal the deal. Purrrrfection!
My goodness, I am drowning
Under my own body’s immune system response
Can’t breathe, my throat is on fire, my voice is silenced
Useless coughing causes my core to ache
Sneezing to loosen up the solid wall of …
“How much do I hate you? Let me count the ways.”
“As if you can complain. I’m the best thing for you.”
“Really? That’s about as offkey of a response as I can imagine.”
“Perhaps, but I am secure in my knowledge that I know how to pull your strings.”
Can’t you take the anxiety away
And leave me feeling serene
Looking at the bottle of bourbon, waiting for its response
Meanwhile, since it didn’t answer, I decide to go double or nothing.
Giving her sarcasm free reign
Lori lit into Mark’s response
It made him blush, and that made her happy
But when he started to cry, well that made her ecstatic