You would certainly consider them a strange couple.
As young adults, both working, both living solitary lives, they had met quite by chance in a hospital waiting room. At that time, without fully understanding how it occurred or why, something magical happened. Something that neither of them would find at all easy to explain. So, they didn’t. There was no need. They were simply a match, and being such, married very soon after this and set up house. They found a great deal of enjoyment being in one another’s company and lived what they both considered to be a simple and contented life together. There were times through the years when one or other of them would question the whys and wherefores of it, but such delving always ended with the mutual agreement that it really didn’t matter.
On this Sunday morning, such a conversation had just taken place in their front living room. It was where they liked to eat breakfast on a weekend. The room’s large bay window gave a view of the street with its passing pedestrians and local traffic. A view that suited them both.
He said, “Pass the marmalade, pet,” without speaking.
She handed him the jar, without hearing.