He sat up from the bed without looking at her, without uttering a single word. She, tied to her repeated tedium and the routine of chores, made the bed and rigorously arranged the impeccable shirt on her, guessed her interior piece at the bottom of the drawer and stole it, she took without hesitation the blue tie of occasion - Friday - and attached it to the hanging shirt, all in perfect silence. He took his shower and entered without looking into the room, did not break the silence, did not utter a word. She brought a steaming bowl of coffee to the edge of the dresser and left the room. Without saying anything he ceremoniously groomed himself and proceeded with care to put the pieces of his clothing in front of the mirror, without looking at her, without comment. She undressed gracefully, with a well-concealed flirtation, of the clear robe that covered her and her body was left helpless in the imperturbable silence of the room, her breasts assumed a placid tremor in contrast to the scandal of her perfect hips and he, Without looking at her, he adjusted his tie with slowness and deliberation, retouched his face and hair, perfumed his lapel and went without haste into the room. She peeped at him with correct discretion from the bedroom. He took the glossy case from the table, entered the hall without looking at it and ignored it where it hurts, slammed the door and hurried down the long corridor, not noticing that she was spying on him through the slot in the half-open door. He, in the parking space of his car, grabbed the keys and went slowly into it. She, from her window, with stealth, watched every movement of the man, he did not try once to induce his gaze to the top, he marched swiftly. She left the window with reluctance, separated some tears that were roaming her cheeks and was absorbed in the unanimous silence of their daily solitude, remembering with bitterness that day they were celebrating 5 years of marriage