a bowl of soup

i was about to eat when i knocked a bowl of soup and the soup dripped from the edge of the table, wetting my clothes. i had to go upstairs, took a quick shower and changed. i have always hated interruptions. why can’t things just go the way they should?

and i began to think about everything that’s wrong with this house. in this house. it’s like the movie we watched last night. sometimes people simply can’t afford happiness.

and now i’m listening to my daughter crying upstairs.