Some mornings, when Nick goes off to work, I like to step out on our balcony with a hot cup of tea and watch him, two stories below, walk out to the car.  He looks up at me, and we smile and say, “I love you,” and, “have a good day.”  And as he walks out through the parking area under the building, emerging just under my feet or close by, I daydream about dropping my mug of tea just so, so it falls perfectly on his head.

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