Parisian Chic by Ines de la Fressange
8 min @ the kitchen table, Toronto
There was a stain the color of mud in the center of the sheet. Quickly, she covered it with the top sheet, making nice crisp tucks at the corner. She didn’t notice the pungent odor of the oil she slathered head to toe every night, and she didn’t notice all the sheets slowly acquiring a shadow on the left side. Her side. She could sleep in the middle truth be told, but she believed that once the eczema cleared up she’d be ready to resume conjugal duties. There was nothing wrong with her marriage despite the poisoned mind of her mother-in-law. Husbands and wives keep separate bedrooms for all sorts of reasons.
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