He steps out of the hall into the kitchen and sits at the seat facing the wall
She pours his coffee and he picks up the morning paper. A moment of silence, broken only by the rustle of the paper, passes.
"Are you coming home tonight?" She asks.
Another moment. A rustle.
"Yes." he answers as he picks up his cup and sifts his coffee. SHifting his weight and folding the paper he slips out of his slippers. He stands, walks across the floor, picks up his breifcase, and leaves.
She throws away the paper, pushes in the chair, runs water in the coffee cup and walks into the hall.
8/29/1989 BCB
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