Wash the Utensils First

“The thing is,” he said, “is that I’m not sure how to act around other people.”

She puttered around in the kitchen, opening cupboards, putting plates and glasses away. He took the silence as a sign to continue talking.

“I mean, work is work, and outside of work is something else, when the two blur…”

He wanted to say something else, but didn’t know what exactly.

“It’s hard,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind making friends, but I don’t want to open up to just anyone.”

She started running the water.

“Christ, is it worth it? I mean, letting someone in?”

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