I talked to her about it, and she kept hen pecking me. Oh, and she wanted me to stop selling at flea markets.Some guys can take that. I can't. I don't...sit around telling my woman how to live. I expect my woman to not go around telling me how the fuck to live. Is that too much to ask? I don't think it is.If I work hard, and make the bulk of the money, and without taking anything important away from her, I want to enjoy a $50,000 car on my commute to work, is that too much to ask? I mean, I make. Stepping into Room 237, Anna moved out of the doorway then paused. There was the smell of strong black coffee – that would be Professor Henriksson. A trace of stale cigarette smoke – Tyrone’s parents both smoked like chimneys. Foot tapping near the center of the room meant Katie had arrived early for a change. ‘Ah, good morning, Miss Anna.’ Professor Henriksson greeted her, having glanced up from a campus newsletter and noticed her. ‘Morning.’ She had suggested he just call her ‘Anna’ a few. More

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