She looked at me. Her face, contorted. Her right hand covered her mouth in disgust. The other hand dropped the plate on the bed. The movement of her head signalled an urge to throw up. I didn’t know what to do. Why did I agree to it? Why didn’t I say I couldn’t, in the first place? She dashed to the bathroom almost tripping on a shoe that lay aimlessly on the floor. “Baaaaaah!” She threw up.

Continue reading