The high pitch digital ringing of a phone could be heard, the only smell not overpowered by cheap cigarettes was coffee.
"Damnit, Gene the phone!"
Dishes clanked in a sink as their handler dropped them in a frantic hurry to rush to a wall plugged phone. The woman was older, with bags of worry under her eyes and wrinkles of struggle adorning her face. She wasn't speaking to herself though, the other was a man, just as old if not older, pants to his belly button, permanent scowl.
"I'm watchin 'the' CNN!"
He barked back delayed as smoke exited his nostrils weakly. The small home was stale with tobacco smoke.
"I'm sorry, I just don't see the point."
A man on the television said as he was rambling senselessly on and on about politics, laws, and bills the old couple were no longer interested in. Eugene was retired, a veteran, upstanding citizen, he deserved to be catered to and have his feet up. Which is why Donna wasn't good enough. A slight whimper escaped her lips as she held the phone. He had just realized the phone was what had caused their small disagreement.
He asked stamping the bright red flame of the cigarette into an aluminum ash tray. The phone dropped and swung like a pendulum until it crashed into the egg shell painted wall.
Eugene exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, one house slipper hanging half way off of his hole filled gray sock. Robe hanging loosely over his under garments.
He asked again stroking his chin with one hand the other at his side as his wife of more than thirty years stood blank in identical attire between the kitchen and family room.
"It's the police.....They need us to identify a body."
The woman spoke once more, the scuffing of her house shoes against the tile floor the only thing between them as she made her way to the back of the house, silent, almost as if in shock.
The man whispered backing into a wall his hands at his sides, his face ghostly and in amazement.
[Just a short narrative I was thinking about, could you imagine such? I mean I know there are people with traumatizing events in their lives, but as an accomplished elder, with nothing left on your plate but peace you experience the ultimate disaster, hell at any age hearing you might have to bury your child would make your heart drop, I tried to captivate those moments, but then again I made this up out of nowhere hope it was uh, somewhat interesting.]