He sat there on the sofa on that final evening
Staring, swearing and screaming at me.
The naming, the shaming, transferring all blame. It was not him, it was not she, it was me.
It was all my fault entirely, completely and utterly.
It lasted for hours
Working himself up , until he became unintelligible. At last it abated, silence.
He looked at me and said :
“Now look what you’ve done
You’ve given me a sore throat”
“I’ll get you some ice-cream” I said quietly, “It will help”.
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