A slither of meat

A slither of meat had flown off his fork as he flailed his silverware around making mountain peaks and valleys,

He was more angry than usual. The glistening worm of meat made it's way down the wall, very slowly, as if in time with her patience.
His forehead looked pasty and yellow, against the raspberry of his face.

Such an ugly face she thought, pointy and bland. Just like his work, pointy and bland.
A calligraphers apprentice, what a dumb ass! Not even a swirly letter guru himself, his own penmanship was unworthy of a title it was always smudged and grainy. A glorified ink auditor she grinned.
Watching over another great man's work day after day. Loser! he never made anything of himself and used her father's money to refurbish that old chevvy. It still sits gnarled with rust in the garage.
This house was now falling apart, inside and out. Her sanity had slipped a long time ago and she was paralysed from taking pride in the place

The current dinner rage was because of cliff the mailman that hurled the paper at him this morning 'on my own front lawn', he said through gritted milk teeth.'I won't have it, I just won't have it!'
A usual, she hadn't said a word. The sliver had made its way to the skirting board now. A limp slug after sliding over some slug salt, waiting to die, lay listless, doubled over on the floor.
Was it still warm? she thought. Would rats come later? How long is this tirade going to continue?

He gets up, declares that again he is talking to the wall and leaves Will and I in the dining room. 'Can I go play?' Will says, having stared glassy eyed at abandoned peas for what seemed like an eternity. 'Yes of of course dear you go'.

Another  night in this shitshow of a life, she almost  smiled to herself but decided not to clean up tonight, she hadn't the energy.
She walked slowly up the stairs not realizing that she only had one slipper on.

When she reached the bed she reached into the drawer and rattled a small brown jar, it had her father's printed on it & the feint green of the local pharmacy's font.

'I'll be out like a light after these'. It's only 6pm she thought. Oh well. I've had a day.... To be continued