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"I need my
medicine," croaked Lila Thorton. Her illness had
turned her into a
grouchy, bitter woman. She complained constantly of the
painful headaches she
endured and was always looking for things to harp about.
Upon entering
the room, Stanley had decided to hide the flowers behind
his back.
Now, he pulled them forth and held them within his wife’s
reach.
"Look Lila, look what I brought you, my
sweetness."
"Flowers? Stanley, what about my medicine"
Don’t tell me that you brought me
flowers instead of my pills?"
He sighed. "Don’t fret my dear, I’ve got
just what the doctor ordered."
Stanley reached into the paper bag and fished out the
brown bottle. It wasn’t a
curative drug, but only a strong form of aspirin that
was prescribed for migraines.
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