Socks by Buddha Qais

He took his usual seat besides his wife. It was that hour of the day again, the hour of when they agreed to always sit and talk about their day’s events.
He looked at his wife with longing eyes, and guessed he had to start today as has been recently.
“So I begin again?” he chuckled. “Well I tell you, it is not fair, so this is the last time.”  Continue reading