Fuel by Bogdan Dragos

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he comes home in

the evening and

doesn’t

even greet his wife

she seems used to it

just like her husband’s used to

finding nothing to

eat anywhere in

the house

He’s tired and

feels like the whole world

had bullied him for

the past twelve hours

but complaining is

not on the menu

it never was

only a bottle of

wine

his wife brings it

opens it

pours

two glasses

and they start drinking

«Hello dear,» he says after

the first sip

and leans in for a kiss

she reciprocates

and life

can finally begin

or continue

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