Gary blew through the front door. He knocked the tall lamp over on his way in.
“Dammit!” He screamed.
He picked up the lamp and swung it against the wall. The white light bulb exploded into bits. He brought it overhead, then slammed it repeatedly into the carpet. Gary tossed the lamp aside.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Asked his wife, Jessica. She was wearing an apron and baking mitts in the kitchen.
Gary stormed into the kitchen, shoved her aside, then heaved open the upper kitchen cabinets.
“Where’s the vodka. Where’s the vodka. Where the FUCK is the FUCKING vodka?”
Jessica put a hand to her chest and backed away towards the kitchen counter. “Honey, you’re scaring me. Please just calm down and tell me what is going on.”
Gary began throwing items from the cabinet out recklessly. A big jug of Folgers coffee beans spilled out onto the floor, followed by two soup cans. A mouse trap clipped his fingers.
“Fuck!” He yelled. He flapped his hand out, but the trap did not release.
Jessica came over to him. “Honey, calm down, let me help you.”
Gary turned his back to her, un-clipped the trap himself, then threw it full speed at the window. A crack sprouted in the glass.
Jessica forced her hands to his cheeks, and turned his head so that he faced her directly. “Honey. Breath. Please just breath.”
Gary threw her hands off, then rushed off to the sofa couch in the living room. He sat down, then rubbed his hands up and down the back of his head. He began shaking forward and back.
Jessica walked over, then sat down some distance removed. “Babe? Will you please just talk to me?”
Gary sat upright, hands to his knees, and began fuming through his nostrils.
Jessica moved next to him, then sat at his side. She took his hand in hers. “Babe? Are you alright?”
Gary shook his head. He stood up, approached the fireplace mantel, then picked up the fire poke. He took it, then stormed through the kitchen and out the house, walking hurriedly with the iron piece outside.
– Thomas M. Watt