Addicted

Chapter 5: Weather

Maree woke before the rooster. As she sat up, she felt something fall into her lap from her chest. She remembered the sleeping lump next to her, as it released chainsaw like snores. Shae carefully moved his arm while making her way off of the pull-out sofa. Sighing, she looked at the man still laying there and made a mental note of how adorable he looked while asleep. She wound her way through the dark living room, feeling around as to not knock over anything, her fingers feeling the cold glass of her bong on one of the tables and stopping to grab it, temporarily losing her balance. Maree felt for the threshold of the kitchen, then palmed the wall trying to find the light switch. Flipping it on, once found, and shutting her eyes tight as the bright sensation hit her. Maree pawed at the table, finding herself a seat, eyes still closed, looking for something else on the table. Peeling one eye open, she found a small wood box and opened it to reveal her different jars of marijuana strains. She opened a jar and began to break up the bud with her fingers, packing the bowl of the bong. She lit the bowl and inhaled for as long as she could, breaking into a fit of coughs. She covered her face with her elbow, saliva running down her arm. She glanced into the living room, silently praying that her companion would not stir while she was trying to self-medicate her problems. She struck the bowl again and the room bellowed with smoke as she continued.

The sunlight started to peek into the house through the windows. Sounds of the rooster beginning to crow and start the day. Maree stood from her spot at the kitchen table, stumbling a bit, then regaining her balance. She slid towards the front door, nothing bothering with pants, and pulled on her jacket and boots.

Shane rubbed his face, waking to the sound of the front door closing with its signature thud. He sat up straight, realizing where exactly he was, and feeling the mattress for the person who was supposed to be sleeping next to him. He could hear the dog barking outside the window, awfully loud for six in the morning. He stretched while standing, causing his back to pop and him to let out a groan. He shuffled over to the window to see what the commotion was going on outside. He could see Maree in her underwear, the feed bag draped over her chest as she threw feed into the air and Chickens raced after her happily, clucking and flapping. Shane made his way to the kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup, then proceeded to put on his jacket and slip on his house shoes, stepping out on the front porch to watch Maree. He saw Maree approaching the coop, and flinging the doors open. For Maree, the wave of heat from the coop felt as though it would burn her legs, the back of her still to the cold winter wind. She quickly gathered all of the eggs into a basket and then set the basket just outside of the coop, closing the doors again as the hens had caught up to her. She continued to throw feed and run laps around the fenced area, the 'ladies' clucking along.

After a few more laps, Maree began to usher the chickens back into the coop, bending to half scoop the birds and force them in. She cooed at the hens, a string of 'good job ladies' as she started to latch up the doors. "Debra, good hustle today," she said as she patted the door or the coop and finished locking it up. She jogged to the end of the field and let herself through the gate, stomping up the stairs to shake any loose dirt or snow from her boots. Basket of eggs in hand, she leaned up and kissed Shane on the cheek, then looked into his cup. "Ooh, coffee," she said going into the house. 

Shane followed behind her. He watched as she poured coffee into a mug and then took a sip from the top. She reached up into the cabinets and produced a small shot bottle of whiskey and then poured it into the coffee. Then turning up her mug to chug most of it. She refilled her cup and added another shot of whiskey, leaning against the counter. She noticed Shane watching her and offered him a shot bottle, but he waved in decline.