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Weekly Contest #239
Martin sat at the table facing his beautiful wife and contemplated, briefly, what she would look like after a swift slap to the face. The thought was swiftly suppressed. She was scrutinising him, clearly irritated, and he realised that his small, intrusive thought of mild violence had caused him to miss what she had said. “What?” Her eyes rolled back into her head. She sighed. The disrespect made him want to give her the imagined slap, but no matter what she did, he could never bring himself to hurt her. No matter how tempting the thou...
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