"I told you not to do that!" yells the woman from the back porch. Her hair is in curlers and she's wearing a green flower print dress. "What if the kids are out there?"
The man in the dirty white undershirt aims the pistol at his child's playset and fires. The crack of the gun drowns out whatever else his wife says after the part about the kids. He fires three more times, creating three more perfect little black dots on the shiny metal slide.
"The kids aren't out here." He says. He fires again, but misses.
"But what if they come out here? What if they get shot by accident?"
There's no point in arguing. He flips the safety trigger and lowers the gun to his side. "I'm sorry," he says, and steps past her into their tiny house.
"Sex later?" she asks.
"Yes." But he'd rather shoot at the slide.