"She’s always like that," my husband said, talking about our friend who he often sees smiling to herself while riding her motorcycle. He thinks it’s funny and usually tells the story in a half-mocking tone. At first, I laughed along, then I went quiet and thought. “Aren’t we all like that?” I mumbled. “What do you mean?” my husband asked. “Well, when you ride a motorcycle alone, with no one else — what do you do during the trip? Don’t you talk to yourself?” My husband lifted his right eyebrow. “I usually sing, or think about what to eat later, or about work.” “Seems like she’s the same — daydreaming.” “Then why’s she smiling like that?” he teased. “Because we women are more expressive, duh!” I said proudly, then took another bite of rice. Tonight we ate outside — well, on the terrace. My kids, who had finished eating, were playing in the family room. My younger one was busy with toy cars, sometimes bothering my eldest, who was drawing. My husband cleaned the bits of ...
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