All Out Of Words #amwriting

Task: Write a 500 word scene where the only dialogue is 'er' and 'mmm'

Response:
I could hear her, banging around in the kitchen. It was her passive aggressive way of saying she was up, and pissed off, that she wanted me to know it, but that she wasn't petty enough to actually mention whatever it was that had annoyed her this morning.
       I ignored the cupboard doors slamming, the mugs rattling as they were thrust into the cupboard, and concentrated instead in not cutting myself as I shaved. Contorting my face into a dozen ghoulish masks as I negotiated the chin, I briefly toyed with the idea of not rinsing the sink of hair and foam before I ventured downstairs, but decided it wouldn't be worth the grief. 
    As I opened the door, she had her back to me, and didn't look round as I made my way towards the kettle. Just to emphasis the point, I took extra care in opening the cupboard as quietly, fishing the teaspoon out of the drawer with the poise of a cat. I shook the coffee jar at her, my eyebrow asking the question. 'errr?'

'mm' her gruff reply and jerk of the head suggested she was thinking 'no, thank you darling, I would not like a coffee at this point in time, but thank you kindly for asking' - or something like that. I rolled my eyes, and carried on making my breakfast, trying hard to remember what had been the cause of this latest argument, and decided that honestly, I no longer cared. I was done. I was done with the drama, done with the hysterics, done with the banging and thumping in the kitchen and the slaps and punches when the mood took. I was done, and with that realisation came the sense of a weight being lifted that I hadn't even realised I had been carrying. 
       I took my coffee out into the garden, sitting on the step and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my back. I'd loved this little patch of countryside once; enjoyed nurturing the seedlings, watching them grow and get stronger and develop into something beautiful. I'd been proud to tell people about the fruits and flowers we were harvesting, to invite friends to come and share this space with us. But work had been crazy recently, and I'd had no time. The fruits sat mouldering in the uncut grass, weeds had wormed their way into the cracks and taken a stranglehold, blocking out the once beautiful roses with clinging suffocating vines. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the hot coffee, letting my mind picture the garden the way it had been, telling myself that whatever happened next, I could always create a new garden; a new space for things to grow and blossom. 'mmmmmm' the aroma of the coffee, and the sense of freedom, filled my head and my heart with joy.

'er...' she was standing over my shoulder, hands on her hips, face like thunder. She gave ne a nudge with her leg and pushed past me with a basket full of laundry. As I watched her hang it, i noticed that there were only her clothes in the load. That's how petty we'd become. We weren't even doing each other's laundry or washing up. I took my mug, emptied the dregs of my coffee into the sink, rinsed it, dried it, and took it and my DVD box sets upstairs. I stuffed the reclaimed items into my suitcase, then pulled my 'good' clothes from the hangers and the drawers, gathered up my wash stuff, grabbed some personal bits and bobs; the photo of me and my sister at mum's birthday last year and my cuff-links. I raided the airing cupboard for my favourite towel, and tugged the zip round the case, sealing my most treasured possessions inside.

I headed back downstairs, she was finishing hanging out her laundry as I carefully removed the four door keys from the key ring, placing them deliberately on the table. Each time I put a key down, it felt like another piece of my soul was being unshackled, until the final key was detached. There was nothing more to say. We had exhausted every topic, every argument, every gripe, every minute detail of the things we hated about each other. 

I hadn't even bothered to close the front door as I took myself and my suitcase through it, as I opened the gate and turned on the the path, she was stood in the door way, brandishing the keys I had divorced myself of, confusion mellowing her angry features.

'errrrr?' 

I shrugged. And carried on walking.