Craving Mr. Cane
I told him when I saw his eyes roaming around the bare and sparsely decorated room while he gave Charlie some belly rubs.
“You’re a neat freak,” he smiled.
“Am not,” I whined.
“You are, see those?” he pointed at my small collection of used books on the corner. “It’s color-coded”.
“And those?” he pointed to things on top of my desk, “everything has its proper place, I noticed you also did that on your office desk.”
“Yeah, well, when you can’t control the bigger things in your life, you get quite obsessive about the little stuff that you can ensure control over.”
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