Talk:Honey/@comment-7706473-20131016115410

Honey, let's kill each other beautifully.

Jealousy is the most pure form of love, perhaps - though who is more jealous here, the wife who is constantly bringing up bygone (and likely imagined) days as a form of juveneile escape, or the husband who pines for and loves his wife, needs her to speak of no one else?

Neither of course, it is me. I am the most jealous! I win! Ahahahaha! Wait, there was a prize, right..? Anyway -

The unnerving atmosphere grew tenser and tenser and you knew something was gonna snap, it was just a matter of whom and how. When the story finally ends, it crashes over the reader - a pretty sublimely ghoulish feeling, and one I enjoyed. And a little unrelated, but I really like that you also leave authornotes. Everyone should - it helps show the intentions of the author versus the unreliability of the reader, ahaha - and speaking personally, I know I can be a pretty unreliable reader... A hyacinth as yellow as honey. The meaning is obvious.