As Sam walked into the kitchen in his dressing gown from the bedroom with the The Daily News in one hand and a Gitanes in the other, he knew something was wrong. He knew exactly what it was too.
He stopped, dead in his tracks, before he'd reached the kitchen side. He was silent and still. His head raised toward the ceiling.
After a few long seconds, he finally spoke, referring his question to his wife.
She grabbed a few items of cutlery from the side of the sink, putting them in the drawer as Sam stood there. Then closed the drawer shut casually.
"What smell?" Ginger was doing her level best to act nonchalant. She didn't turn to look at him, she busied herself putting away dishes from the draining rack. She sniffed the air around her.
"Oh god, I hope I didn't empty a still lit cigarette into the trash."
Sam looked at her warily. If this was the old Ginger, then God alone knew what she could have been up to. He waited to see if she would check the trash. She seemed busier than normal. Experience told him that along with people that talked too much, those that didn't pay attention to a matter in hand, preferring to do something else instead, usually had something to hide.
Ginger was no fool, as soon as she'd suggested that perhaps the burning smell was coming from the trash, she was lifting the lid and peering inside. She wasn't about to put her hands in there though, there were soggy coffee filters, cigarette butts and the remains of Amy's cereal all mingling together inside.
"Not coming from there." She shrugged, leaning back on the kitchen side, infront of the offending drawer. "You want a coffee?"
Comments 23
He stopped, dead in his tracks, before he'd reached the kitchen side. He was silent and still. His head raised toward the ceiling.
After a few long seconds, he finally spoke, referring his question to his wife.
"What's that smell?"
Reply
"What smell?" Ginger was doing her level best to act nonchalant. She didn't turn to look at him, she busied herself putting away dishes from the draining rack. She sniffed the air around her.
"Oh god, I hope I didn't empty a still lit cigarette into the trash."
Reply
Reply
"Not coming from there." She shrugged, leaning back on the kitchen side, infront of the offending drawer. "You want a coffee?"
Reply
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