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Instead of sleeping, like her body pleaded, she lay awake, listening to every car pass before the house, bringing hopes of the squealing brakes they couldn't afford to fix.  Each car ran smooth, purring past her front steps.  Her eyes had just closed, heavier than her thoughts, when she heard the abrupt squeak, followed by a bump against the curb.  She prayed that there were no more damages they couldn't afford.

She listened to his keys scratching at the lock until he found it in the darkness of his drunk.  The echo of the night followed him in, only to be slammed out.  He shuffled around the piles in the living room, his feet dragging on the gray shag carpet before going into the kitchen.  His shoes squeaked on the blue linoleum and the faucet turned on, adding a clunking of the pipes in the basement.  She closed her eyes at the sound of crashing glass followed by the rumble of his cursing.

The swish of the broom shoved shards of glass into the metal dustpan.  He dropped them into the garbage can and the glass fell, reminding her of her childhood game running through just frozen puddles and breaking the thin layer of ice with her Rainbow Brite Moon boots.

But this wasn't a game and she pulled the blanket over her head as he shuffled towards the bedroom door.  She could feel him in the room, closing the door behind him with a slam that made her flinch.  He walked past the bed to the bathroom, the rotting liquor smell drifting behind him.  He turned on the light, illuminating their wedding picture above the bed.  She listened to the tinkle of his piss and started to pray.

Please, Lord, just let him go to sleep.  Let him pass out.  Let him leave me alone.

His weight shifted the bed, shaking it as he struggled pulling off his shoes, then again for his socks.  He stood up to take off his pants, dropping them in a pile on the floor, his belt buckle clanking as it fell.  Then, he pulled the covers back and slid in behind her, his hand sliding across her waist.  He pressed his nose against her hair and took a deep breath.  "You awake?" he asked, stumbling over the syllables.  His fingers traced her belly button but didn't linger long, sliding down her hipbones beneath her pajama pants then started playing with her pubic hair, twisting it around his fingers.  "I asked if you were awake."

Her fingers ached clutching the blanket and she breathed in and out, in and out, as his fingers wandered further and he groaned.

"Stop it."

He pushed against her, shifting his hard-on until it found the crevice of her ass, searching for any place for the moment, reminding her of the mice in her Grandfather's barn, satisfied with crack in the wall.

"I said stop it, Karl.”  She pulled his hand away and rolled away from him.

He rolled to his back and covered his eyes.  "What?  I just want to make love with my wife.