My wife and I had an argument. She wanted to spend a hundred bucks each on opera tickets, and I wanted to play World of Warcraft.

The argument lasted for days, and neither of us would budge.

In the end, we compromised. I went along, but I brought my netbook.

Ellie wriggled her toes, grinning with grim satisfaction as the joints cracked. She looked down at the delicate, elfin girl nestled underneath the covers beside her.

“Morning,” her husband whispered as he entered the room. “Is she still asleep?”

Ellie nodded, beaming, gently stroking the girl’s sun-dappled cheek. “My baby.”

“Will you love me forever?” she whined.

“Yeeeah,” he said, rubbing her head. ”‘I’ll only be gone for an hour or two. I’ll be back.”

“Promise?” she whimpered.

“I promise.”

He did come back, and he brought a new collar and leash with him.

His wife liked going for “walks”.

Henry was sitting in the park, his wife and son beckoning him to join them.

He felt peace, but he was in pain.

He stood; stepped; stopped, struck by a force so great he felt he had no breath.

Then, “He’s back!” And the beeping on the cardiac machine resumed.

He poured concrete. He laid bricks. He hammered nails into wood.

He stapled tar paper. He put up siding. He packed insulation into the walls.

He spread out shingles. He rented a truck. He carried boxes. He painted. He assembled furniture.

Then his wife walked out.

He sold the house.