Schrodinger

"I swear I smell something rotten!" Alex began throwing dirty clothes on to the bed, pressing them to her face and breathing deeply before she decided that they weren't the offending party.

"Honey, relax, come to bed. I don't smell anything."

"Then it's probably your shit that smells, Benjamin." She pulled a white gym shift of his from the hamper, lightly yellowed with his acrid sweat. Sniffing it, defeated she chucked it back into the wicker receptacle. "God damn."

"I told you, Alex. My body only produces scents fitting a god." He gestured slowly, following the definition of his chest and abdomen. A wry smile crossed his mouth, but she didn't notice, she didn't even watch him, rather she had dropped to all fours, nose to the ground like a basset hound routing around for scraps.

Ben sighed, lifting his book and began reading. He was used to this. Her neuroses had been bad before but now that they had their own apartment it was like she flipped the crazy switch into overdrive. He was just starting to forget her current episode when he heard a smashing sound. "Alex what's going..." He turned and saw her bashing a hole in the bathroom wall with a bowling ball.

"Got it!" She pulled a dead cat from the hole.