Endless Circle

She swallows what’s left of the vodka in her glass, watered down by melted ice, lights another cigarette, and stares aimlessly out the kitchen window. She hears the neighbor’s dogs bark incisively at each other, and wonders if that’s what their fight sounded like, a pack of wild dogs.
His drinking has been heavier since the layoff. Too much time thinking. She gets up for ice from the fridge and fills the glass, looks at the bottle and decides on water. Her second shift starts in a few hours, has to have a clear head.  She wonders how she let things get this bad, I guess any good man sits around long enough, depressions bound to take hold. He is a good man, till he starts drinking, pointing fingers, blaming her.
He’ll be back, she tells herself, hoping things will change, hoping the fighting is over, hoping she doesn’t have to make decisions right now, because she’s too damn tired. Without thinking, she fills the glass again with ice, opens the bottle and pours, sits down at the table, stares out the window and lights another cigarette.