She glanced at his intray. In it, atop a stack of crisp red paper sheets arranged in a neat pile, was an unopened jar of pickles.
“What’s with the pickles?” she asked.
“They need eating,” he replied.
She glanced at his intray. In it, atop a stack of crisp red paper sheets arranged in a neat pile, was an unopened jar of pickles.
“What’s with the pickles?” she asked.
“They need eating,” he replied.