marriageable miseries

Marriageable miseries

Seeing a couple in their drawing room, a painting reveled its meaning. The painting showed two featureless faces, looking in opposite directions, with two empty cups of tea placed before them. There was an impression of a curtain in the background. I had seen the painting a few years back.
As I entered their house, the musty smell assaulted me. It came from everything, from all corners. On an impulse I wanted to open the windows. “ It’s pleasant outside, but, inside its stifling,” she commented sadly, as she perched on the sofa. I more than agreed. I looked at asymmetrical paintings hung all around. Then he came, dragging slippers. He added to the aching sadness of the room. They fitted perfectly into the frame. They complemented each other in sadness. It was infectious, my upbeat mood was deflated. I joined their conjugal sadness. It stuck to me like the musty smell.
Now, he began to mumble something. I looked at them and my heart sank. It sank further in an abyss of sadness. They must have been married for over two decades. What does marriage do to some people?