Love

Top of the morning to ya, my love!” shouted Mary to her husband, Mr. Cook. “Did you have good dreams, darlin’?”

Mr. Cook was a man of few words, but as she often did before the incident, Mary answered for him.

“You were cold, ya say?” Mary said with concern. “Perhaps you would like to return to the dark cupboard by the fire,” she said thoughtfully.

The cook took a swig of ale and wiped off her stubbly upper lip with the hem of her apron. “Do I need to remind you of how dark and cold your life would be if I hadn’t stopped you from running off with that painted floozy who worked at the Liberty,” she said coyly.

Mr. Cook rolled his eyes. “Here we go again,” he thought.