It started with the chicken bone. Daniel was not even sure what possessed him to do it. Years later he would think about this evening and justify his actions as a desperate plea for comic relief. As one of his carefully concocted schemes to force Margot’s face into that sublime squinted manner, the corners of her mouth nearly jumping of the surface of her cheeks. Form the moment he met her, Daniel was obsessed with the sound of her laugh. He described it as the only sound he had ever heard that was completely tangible. He swore he could feel it on his face and chest, warmth like from sun in the late afternoon. It smelled like vanilla extract. He remembered that night clearly; it was his last notable memory of this inexplicably tangible sound. Margot was standing at the kitchen sink. There were dishes piling out of the white porcelain basin and onto the surrounding counter tops. She was wearing the knee length navy blue dress that she always wore for his business dinners. Her hair, previously laying in dictated curls down her back, was now wrapped in a messy bun on the top of her head. It was late. The dinner had gone on far longer then either of them had wanted it to, and he had received several accusatory glances from her while his work acquaintances puffed cigar smoke in their living room. She mumbled about how she hated cleaning up after his sloppy and snobby friends, and how she had an early shift at the nursing home in the morning. Her tone was harsh and impatient. Daniel offered to do the dishes, and she responded with an overstated eye role. That’s when he did it, not at all premeditated; yet in the moment it felt completely natural. He twirled the chicken bone in his fingers momentary before he sent it intentionally down to the floor. Margot spun around so quickly that a bun on the top of her head toppled slightly to the left. They both started at the chicken bone on the floor for several seconds in silence. Margot’s face was contorted in a manner in which Daniel had only seen once before. It was at her grandmother’s funeral. She was standing up to read a prayer when her dress got caught in a crack in the wooden bench. As it ripped, Margot made a sound somewhere between what a five year old would make at her birthday party and the sound people with tired joints make when standing up from a recliner chair. Then she turned to Daniel and showed him that face. The face that was formed when laughter, and anger, and sadness boil over the capacity that a single moment can hold. After the moment of silence perpetuated by the chicken bone, Margo shouted harshly at him to pick up the mess he had just created. Daniel just stood there with an uncharacteristically childish smile on his face. Then it was the baked potato skin. This time he squished it between his fingers and raised it above his head before forcefully shoving it to the floor. Margot’s eyes were wide. She screamed about how she would now have to wash the floors and all the extra work he was creating for her. It was at the end of the her screaming sentence, though, that Daniel saw the corners of her mouth curl ever so slightly upward. They again stared at each other in silence for several seconds. Although their eyes were locked onto on another’s, Daniel could tell that the smile on her face was slowly increasing. He could smell it. Then it was the wine glasses, still gleaming dark purplish-red from the remaining droplets. The first glass Margot simply slid off of the counter top. With one brightly red painted finger, she slid the base of the glass so that it was no longer supported by the green speckled linoleum. It crashed to the floor almost gleefully, the small, now shattered pieces of glass happy to be free from their goblet shaped prison. Deniel’s face now reflected his own concoction of shock and gratitude. Before either of them could conjure words, they both grabbed two more wine glasses. As they raised both arms so the glasses gleamed with light form the overhead fixture, Daniel saw the exquisite remark across Margot’s face that was a sure prelude to the tangible laughter. In unison they threw the glasses to the floor. Then it happened; the laughter that he could feel. He closed his eyes to heighten the warmth that was now flooding his body. He opened them to Margot standing on the kitchen counter. She turned around with a stack of clean dishes from the cabinet in her arms. Before Daniel could doubt her intentions, the plates were in gravity’s hands. As they shattered on the floor, another round of the laughter sprang from deep within Margot. In rapid effort to continue the miraculous sound, Daniel, with one enormous grasp, scooped up all the dripping wet dishes from the sink and released them to the floor. Then it was last night’s left over spaghetti from the fridge. Then it was the vases and candlesticks they received as a wedding gift. Then it was the picture frames. Laughter flowed freely from both of them, and mixed unnaturally with the booms and crashes. After there was nothing left to throw or break or destroy, they found themselves dancing in the middle of the mess. First quickly and goofily, waving their arms and twirling around and around cutting their feel on the countless pieces of shattered glass. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, they danced more slowly. They held each other tightly and swayed back and forth for an untraceable number of minutes. The laughing had changed too. It had become slower; they made an effort to take deep, strained breaths. When the laughing ended and the crying started, neither was sure. As they swayed there and let wet tears fall down each other’s backs, they communicated all the words that had not been said. All off the anger, and neglect, and love, and trust flowed between their two bodies now. At that moment they both knew that they no longer fit into each other’s life. They danced until the sun came up.