"You never listen to me," Amanda screamed at Jim once again. She screamed this often and he ignored her just as often. "I don't care what the neighbors think, let them call the police, assholes," her rant continued. "You make me sick, just lie there, just stay in the damn bed you lazy bastard."
Amanda raged out of the room slamming the door behind. A dust bunny ran across the floor like a tiny grey tumbleweed. She stomped it as it ran by, offending her by its presence. "Bastard won't even sweep the floor," she muttered. "When are you going to clean up this damn mess?" she yelled at the walls as she walked away.
Lying in her bed looking at the bright sunny sky painted on her ceiling Amanda imagined the clouds floating by. The painted birds soared and she felt the cool wind in her hair. Here in her room life was perfect, her refuge, her oasis. On the walls were trees and mountains, a vision of a country side she had only seen in pictures. It was the most real thing in her life and the most precious.
"I made breakfast, are you getting up?" Amanda said with a mix of concern and challenge. Slashing the eggs with the spatula 'scrambled' hardly described the results. "These are the last of the eggs until somebody goes to the store so get up now before they dry out." "Well, screw you then, bastard. I'll eat them myself. I will, I'm not bluffing." Jim didn't answer. "You missed your chance, you want eggs now you make them yourself."
Amanda put her dish in the sink, it was Jim's job to wash them. "When the hell are you going to wash the dishes? I can't take much more of your lying around not doing your part." Amanda said, each word more shrill than the last. "Asshole," she muttered before stomping off to her room.
The birds sang, bees buzzed and a soft breeze fluttered the painted leaves on her walls. Clouds sailed overhead, birds flew across her ceiling in the bright sunlight. All was well in the world.
It was late, the kitchen light was off, the darkness improved the appearance. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes and the stove was caked with spilled food. Amanda was a sloppy cook, a habit formed by always having somebody to clean up after her. She thought about getting something to eat but decided it wasn't worth the bother. The refrigerator was nearly empty, somebody, Jim, needed to do some shopping. She went back to bed.
In the dark the sky on her ceiling had glowing stars, 'should have a moon,' she grumbled to herself as she did every night. She lay there looking at the twinkling stars, an owl hooted in a distant corner of her mind.
Outside the wind blew up a dust devil, swirling ashes of civilization. Jim was lying in his bed, his empty eye sockets stared at the ceiling.