By Rachel Vargeletis | Observer Contributor
Marsha looked up from the breakfast table. Her husband Carl was seated across from her, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper.
Not once did he look up at her and greet those sea-stained eyes. He was sitting across the five foot table, far from the familiar leg he would soothingly rub of the woman he married only years ago. Carl had his routine and Marsha was no longer a part of it, she was an unessential piece to the puzzle.
She looked back down at her half buttered burnt toast and tea, half empty and cold- much like herself. Carl sniffled and turned a page in his newspaper, raising it above his face now. A barrier.