Carol sat across the kitchen table from Phil, who stared at the green, blue, and red Price Chopper sticker on a brown-speckled banana. She almost gagged on the smell of the overripe fruit.
Neither could sleep.
A car’s passing headlights raked the kitchen wall.
Phil raised his cup and gazed across the top of his coffee. As he sipped, he narrowed his eyes against the steam.
“… unseasonably mild…,” the radio weatherman was saying.
Carol lowered her eyes, unable to meet her husband’s gaze.