Men do need children.

That's the first thing he does after dinner.

The woman watched as I was dragged into the bedroom, repeating the rules on the note over and over again through the door.

"Do not use your phone after 8 p.m."

"Do not eat at the dining table."

"Do not let the cohabiting man enter the kitchen."

"Do not let the cohabiting man use a broom."

She recited many of them.

But I didn't want to hear any of them.

Later, I found the kitchen knife she used for cooking and plunged it into the man's chest.

In the woman's screams, I leaped out of the window.

I went mad.

The man's home was on the 13th floor.

But I flew down like a bird.