Tearing apart his book shelf, kicking his stack of papers, grabbing his backpack and taking it back out with her, throwing it off the balcony and onto...the busy road below. Slamming the front door closed, hard enough to shake the window next to it causing it to split. She charged down the stairs and climbed into her car, after emptying out her back seat on his scattered papers that lay cluttered all over the cement. Sliding broken back into her car, she started the ignition, watching him. The smell in our bedroom that Thursday evening made me reflect on things, and I realised it wasn't me trying more often; Barb had been pushing me away more often.Now Barb's never had much of a sense of smell, whereas mine was always keen. She didn't notice things, but I caught everything. Some smells I loved, like the smell of Barb as I slipped into bed beside her. Other smells I hated. The smell I hated most of all was cigarette smoke. I hated the way it got into your clothes and hair and just. More

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