Some spouses squabble over life-insurance, others cash and jewels. Oddly, we had those all worked out. We had more dire issues to deal with in our marriage. I had to take drastic measures; I didn't have time to see a marriage counselor.
I tried running upstairs to quell my rage. Over and over again I washed my hands, trying to think about happier things: pink roses on our first date, warmth in our first kiss. Still, all I could think about was how he had insulted my taste.
And so I went down to the kitchen where he washed the dishes, the very fine china he had insisted eating fast food with. I grabbed one of the steak knives he had just washed, turned it in my hand, and watched him die. He shouldn't have insulted my taste in tacos.
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