"I think it's food poisoning", he said with a weak voice as he came back from the bathroom.
"Well, we'll see if I get sick or not", I said fearlessly. "Then we'll know if it was something you ate."
"I don't want you to get sick", he whispered as he fell asleep.
"Oh, I'll take care of you now, and you'll take care of me if that happens", I said and put a cold towel on his feverish forehead.
Two days later I got sick and I lay on the bathroom floor, sweating.
He was in the kitchen eating a TV-dinner.
Photograph, text, and Swenglish syntax © Sandra 2006
