I don't get it. You never took the covers before. You never minded about my snoring, about my restless legs. I peek at you with one eye. Your long hair fans out against my pillow. Your perfumed shampoo claws my nostrils. Do I complain? No. "Out!" You give me the shout-and-shove. "Your breath stinks," you say. …
KL Griffiths 