It vexed her that he had determined that the bed was the source of their disaccord and had set upon himself the task of researching beds to restore their rapport. She couldn’t place her finger on the exact moment that he abandoned his research; she might have thought that it was at this point or that juncture, but then again she couldn’t be entirely sure. She would never know if he himself was aware of the exact moment in which fixing their relationship was superseded by the overwhelming urge to relinquish it altogether.

Art is ephemeral; so add to the pot...

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