"Fuck you Jim, if you don't like spaghetti then you don't like me," the woman screamed.

The man tried to explain how they had spaghetti several times that month. He didn't dislike it, he was just tired of it. A break, perhaps their relationship should take a break. There wasn't much reason for them to stay together. Neither found the other great to be around. The cooking wasn't great. Things didn't get fixed around the house. Neither was bringing mind numbing amounts of money.

Wait, the sex. That is why they stayed together. The sex was great. Especially when it was angry sex. Sometimes they would make each other angry just for the makeup sex. Maybe that is why he never put the toilet seat down. Perhaps that is why they had spaghetti eight times that month.

Soon the two had stopped yelling as plates crashed to the floor. Humping like rabbits. The entire apartment complex heard them through the paper thin walls. The sex kept the couple together, that was enough for them. For the rest of the building, it was enough to want them dead.

"Three's company too," blasted through the walls. Someone in an adjoining apartment had decided to blast 80s sitcoms instead of hear the sounds of angry sex.

"Fuck you, and fuck the spaghetti," the man screamed louder.

Another person started vacuuming. One by one the neighbors all found something loud to do. Music, television, cleaning, video games and just about everything else you could think of. Still, it was not enough to drown out the sounds of their emotional sexcapades. They enjoyed the competition and put on a performance. However, something happened that day that had never happened before.

"Will you two love birds shut the fuck up for once," a woman's voice loudly cut through all the noise. A crazy thing happened. It all stopped. The sex, the TV, the music and everything else. It was silent. For just a brief moment, everyone shut the fuck up, and ate spaghetti.


https://exsanguinate.12amfiction.com/2019/05/chapter-2.html