He stared at his wife from the other end of the table. Between them lay the body of a decimated game bird. Torn apart through the course of the meal. He alternated his gaze between his wife and the bird. Looking first at the succulent, brown flesh of the bird, and then at the taught, white skin of his wife.

He tried to think back to happier times. To recall the vigour of their youth, of what had driven him so insane about this woman in the first place, but he could not recall. He closed his eyes briefly and thought back to those days. He saw them now through a layer of mist. Like a musk smoke that lingers in a tent. Memories of her with her eyes so wet and glistening, her lips so full and inviting. There had rarely been a moment when he did not want her back then. But he found that he no longer harboured such feelings for her now.

That night, as they prepared to sleep, each pursued a solitary ritual of custom. A series of actions that did not rely on the other person. They did not speak; they did not need to. He felt saddened by this, remembering how much they had laughed when they were younger. He had often felt as if his face would break. As if the smile would tear itself into his face. How sad this all felt now.

As they drew close together in their bed, he pulled up alongside her and pressed his face close to her bare back. So many harsh words had crossed between them that he felt there was no way he could bridge the divide. He drew her close and breathed her scent in deeply.

Without even trying to, he received a flash of the images of youth. That skin with that scent, somewhere between perfume, flesh and an old, antique wood. Something he could never describe in a metaphor or a simile. He cast a hand down her thigh and felt the skin that he had caressed many years ago. To his hand, what with the scent, it smelled the same as it had done all those years ago. It was almost as if he was there now. At that point he felt a stirring, something brushing against the curve of her hip. He ignored it, and continued to breathe her in, more deeply now. As was usual, she stayed resolutely turned from him, facing the expanse of the dark room. He kept his hands where they were and fell asleep like this. Remembering days past, with a smile on his face and renewed strength in his heart.