Characters: Ilia/? Reader's imagination.
Theme: lyrics "cornbread fag." I can't recall the name of the song off the top of my head.
On Sunday, she thought: "I could pretend to still love you, if you could pretend we could get through this week."
On Monday, over coffee: "Don't leave the keys near the door. It makes for too easy an escape."
On Tuesday, burying her dead garden: "The problem with Nietzsche is that he's always too right."
On Wednesday, during lunch: "The real problem is that you're a cornbread fag, through and through: a little buttering up never made up for simplicity."
On Thursday, scrubbing kitchens: "I always knew it would come to this - the problem was trying not to care."
On Friday, while weeping: "What is the purpose of falling in love, if it's so easy to fall out of it?"
On Saturday, she said: "I think trying is just another way of cutting corners."
And so she didn't anymore.