She sat on the couch, folding clothes. Old pairs of underwear with holes in them. Stains. She did the chore as if it were second nature. Kept her eyes on the television and kept folding.

He was asleep in the easy-chair. Snoring. The old woman wanted to turn up the sound but was scared it would wake him. She’d spent her whole life looking out for him. Making him meals, folding laundry, keeping the trailer clean, letting him sleep. The old man slept a lot.

The wife looked over at her husband. Sawing logs. Loud. He was always loud. When he was awake, he was loud, and when he was asleep, he was loud. Constant noise. And he had bad gas. Smelling up every room he was in with loud farts. Noises would come from the bathroom.

Jerry Springer was on. Men and women fighting over infedilities. The husband cheated on her with the babysitter, and she was screwing the whole block. Every man in sight. They hated one another but stayed together because of the kid. Or so they said. These situations are hard to figure out, the wife said as she watched the two battle it out. She crossed herself and thanked God that her husband never cheated on her. And he was thankful she was never tempted.

He kept snoring. She wondered what he dreamt about. Did he ever hope for a better life? Something besides this? She did. Kept it to herself. Took on the role of wife and let her dreams fly away.

She wanted to be a ballerina. Wanted to dance Swan Lake. When she was a kid, she watched it on PBS. She was captivated by it. And then life got in the way. Isn’t that always the case. Giving up on dreams and settling for reality. Or what we think is real.

The old lady placed a blanket on her husband and turned off the TV. She turned on the radio and listened to classical music and was taken away to another place, a beautiful place where she was dancing.

Turn that radio down, he said. She did as she was told.