Once upon a dreary day I met a man wrestling time. By sight he looked weary and tired.

As he sat across the train platform to ponder, one could swear his soul was drained iron. As he nodded, he asked me, “Why are some woman dumb clucks?”

I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know which perspective he was coming from.

As he vented about his broken marriage I couldn’t help myself but succumb. He told me he toils hours at the mine to ensure that the needs of his wife are satisfied. A wife who doesn’t even know what she wants. Every time he comes late from work he gets accused of having a concubine.

In conclusion, he told me that ever since he got married, storms and thunder have become his thoughts, leaving him dreaded from time to time.

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