She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. She will cry for days and nights together. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside.
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