Potted plants, some growing wildly, out of control, are aligned in front of windows and glass sliding doors.

The couple, man and woman, sleep on a hideaway bed with no sheets, no blankets. They use their coats for covers. Metal springs poke through a yellow foam mattress with  brown stains on it in the middle. No pillows. Man and woman use a stack of jeans piled and wadded up to rest their heads on.

Outside, it’s thundering. A shade of  blue light from lightning flickers off and on in the room. The couple wakes as rainwater drips from the ceiling.

Grab a bucket, she says.

We don’t have a bucket. We have an old Folgers can.

Well, get that.

He tiptoes over a water soaked  green dingy rug. It’s dark.

Where’s that can? he asks himself.

What?

No one’s talking to you. Turn the lamp on, he yells.

With water everywhere? That’s smart. Why don’t we just light a match and set the whole fucking place on fire.

He smiles. Yeah. Why don’t we?

Did you check the bathroom?

Not yet. I’ve been talking to you.

Well, I think it’s in the bathroom.

Why would a Folgers can be in the bathroom?

That’s where it leaked last time, she tells him.

Well, it’s probably leaking there again.

You think so?

Don’t get smart. You know, you could look too.

Right. But I’m having too much fun watching you.

More blue light from the lightning comes into the room. The man’s now down on his hands and knees crawling on the wet tile floor.

I think it’s time we moved, he says. Someplace dry. Arizona. West Texas.  New Mexico. Maybe we could cross the river and live in Mexico. It doesn’t rain there.

Sure it does.

Rarely. Mostly dry.

Where are we going to live?

I don’t know. I don’t know. Just an idea, he laughs.

You and your ideas. It was your idea to live in this place.

We don’t pay rent now, do we?

This is not what I wanted, she says. I had bigger dreams when I was a kid. Aspirations. 

Like what?

Be a movie star. Live in Hollywood. 

That town is dry.

Sure. Are you listening to me? You don’t hear. Do you? I had dreams. Visions. I tried to manifest that shit and it never worked out. Now, here I am. Wet and hungry. Tired.  Poor. Did you find the can yet?

She hears the doors slide open. Sees his outline stepping outside. It has stopped raining.