In the inbetween times

As I sit here, Ben is in the kitchen cooking dinner for us both - some kind of Bengali delicacy that smells exquisite. It’s part of a master plan designed to get me through the last two days of prac with my sanity intact. I’ve just completed the penultimate day, and Friday will be the last day of unpaid teaching I have to do ever. (I hope!) I’m still in control of all mental and physical faculties, (as far as I can tell), so it seems that his plan is working. I like coming home to random displays of compassion and affection.

Actually, I just like coming home.

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