How would you interpret this sentence?
Sunday is the worst day. Everyone else has family and a place to go. Even the bells from the churches have a conversation, all ringing at once. Our house is like an empty cigarette packet, lying around reminding you what’s not in it. The maid, gone to mass. Mr. Produce the Cash (his Mother’s lover), to the wife and children. Mother rinses her girdles and step-ins, flings them on the rails of the balcony to dry, and finds herself with nothing left to live for. Sometimes when there isn’t anything in the house to eat, she says, “Okay, kiddo, it’s dincher dinner.” That means sharing her cigarettes so we won’t be hungry.
How would you interpret this sentence: Our house is like an empty cigarette packet, lying around reminding you what’s not in it?