It's a Sunday night.
On usual Sunday nights, we would be cooking instant noodles in your kitchen. No, actually u would be cooking - stir-frying sausages, boiling carrots, simmering noodles - while i do the washing. U always say my noodles don't turn out nice.
Then, with each of us holding our bowls filled to the brim, we would scurry into your room and turn on channel 411. Prime time HBO.
But tonight, a Sunday night, u're not here. U will never be here anymore.
Michelle clutches her precious Thomas Sabo charm reminiscing Sunday nights. Her divemaster's first gift.
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