Shelly Narine, stepped across the kitchen floor. The floor boards hissed. The rubber slippers she wore dragged against it, every time her heels rose. It made a solemn rhythm. She looked at her husband and four children. Screaming in her mind was how quiet everyone was. She could not remember the last time the girls were around each other without bickering taking place. Especially during dinnertime. Shelly felt this was always the worst time when they were together. Voices clamored for various parts of the meal. If one chicken was on the menu a particular night, it best has more than two legs and two breasts. And as for the loaf of bread, more than two ends. …………………..
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