We bought a pet when we moved in together. I wanted a rabbit, and you wanted an iguana, so we bought a goldfish instead. We put it in a glass jar because I wanted a fish bowl and you wanted an aquarium. His name is George because I wanted to name him Rafael and you wanted to name him Leonardo. We placed him near the couch when all the tables were occupied. I wanted to place him near the kitchen, and you wanted him inside our bedroom. We almost never agreed on anything, but we compromised and still got what we needed in the end.
Sometimes I wish everything else was this simple. Not me wanting to have two kids, you want to have three when what we got is an empty crib, vacant for seven years.
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...
