Earth's cloudy stomach had always been creakily tricky. It's downpour could definitely appear to be a (throw-up) of some invincible alien from the sky; (Wife sailed her hands past somewhere, while her head jot the grave thought unknowingly).

It was freaky cold in there, and right on her bed was her psyche, and also a dead phone hung upside way her direction. A mirror was there to watch, as there's been a gone power supply for over a decade now.
Husband was out of space, so the same were Wife's boyfriends.
The face of Wife's clock looked so clumsy, even while it's hands moved closer to two.
Earth's cloudy stomach had started speaking again, this time; its rumbling voice was at a great pitch. Wife's nerve jolted with little notice. Her psyche deepens into some barbaric apocalyptical cataclysm. Her fright loosened near, and it grew so deadly just as the voice went thunderous.
Wife's bed shook in togetherness. Her oily lantern blew off. Darkness came with glares of light. Her matchbox disappeared to nowhere.
(Rain) burst off with haste.
Wife's window dashed open. The Earth's (vomit) swept in, plastering itself on the wall of her bedroom.

Wife's psyche posed an intuitive movement.
The resemblance of masked...