Maggie turns over again again in bed, once more. The screaming bright white light from his phone creeps underneath the covers.
BOOM!
Maggie bolts upright in bed.
...CRASH
Drip drip drip, water dripping,
“What the hell?” Brave strong Troy says as he lays still in bed scrolling thru his phone.
SMASH!!!
Maggie steps out of bed then slowly steps towards the ruckus. The dog. Does not move. Walking slowly Maggie finds the flashlight on her phone & switches it on. Tip toeing thru the darkness. unsure what she may find.
A broken pulley. Troy creeps up behind her. Surveying the area. “You know you have to clamp it down right?” she shoots a look of death his way in the darkness. He can’t see it, thru his blame throwing for the failed system. It’s a flawed design to begin with She comes to the conclusion. His efforts, none. “You need my help?” Need is a strong word. The kitchen is a mess. Broken glass, dripping water, plant bits ripped apart from the fallen window system Troy had installed. Maggie unsure of what to say, clearly needing help, “No”. She shakes her head in the darkness.
Silence. ” It’s 3 am. To late/early for a fight that’s always brewing. He shrugs & retreats to bed. Can’t fix what is poorly built. A straw house on match sticks. Up in smoke. Watch it burn she hears in her echo chamber again & again & again it pounds. She’s stewing though still not talking. Why would she? He’s lost his charm & grown a belly. What would this arrangement be? Friends? Bad roommates? She stopped wondering if he’ll be able to pay his portion of the bills. They can’t even go out for a drink together. Pretending is too big of a charade. What is a date? She thinks of her mother’s bad decisions, and recognizes what surrendering looks like. Slowly scuffing her way thru the mess. Back to a bed of dirty sheets. Pretending she’ll have the energy tomorrow to clean up yesterday’s mess. She skips afloat her raft of silence.
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