In the midst of a bird-chirping blue sky, the summer breeze pushed an awful stench through the window of their 2-story house. Dunkin and Emilia had been together for a year, and were already living together. Emilia, in the kitchen, ignored the smell and the THUD she heard when Dunkin slammed the door behind him. His tiring days at work brought home the tension; Emilia already knew what was next.
“Yo! Com…show m some love girl,” Dunkin slurred. Emilia continued rolling dough for her mouth-watering biscuits. Always being busy, she never had time to cook a full meal, and she wasn’t letting him ruin it today.
“Di’ you hear me??” Dunkin begged. Emilia held her breath, and did not say a word. Dunkin had managed to stagger over to her location, snatched the rolling pin from her flour-filled hands, and clocked her on the back of her head. She felt a growing throb at the back of her head, as she lost balance and fell to the floor, she said, “You gotta do better than that to get my attention.”
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