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I don’t do the dishes to get them done I just like doing them. Next to the sink you kept the fine china from your wedding, in between serving platters was a letter from your ex-husband. I doubt he does his own dishes now.


You started leaving dishes in your underwear drawer and your underwear in the fridge. You kept losing your phone so we bought you a corded one, then you lost your phonebook, but we had made photocopies. We put things back in their places, but you still called me to ask where your shoes were. Somehow you never lost those little silver earrings that went on and off your nightstand the same way your cat always found its way back home.


You probably forgot you planted the pear tree in the backyard. You would bring its fruits into the house and put them in the soap dish until they started rotting. I told you pears are precious and not something you scrub pans with. What would you do if I told you it was ok?


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