Masie lunged at the kitchen counter with her sledgehammer. She wasn’t sure what was more satisfying, the thwacking sound it made on impact or the cracks it left behind.
She had unintentionally made a work of art; a perfect representation of what the man she’d made love to on this very worktop had done to her heart.
“Quite thought provoking, isn’t it?” she cooed, showing it to her girlfriends when they came for dinner. “Like those exhibitions Miss White used to drag us to at school. Only this one’s good ‘cos it actually makes sense.”
“No, Babe, it doesn’t,” sighed Sandra. “Because he broke up with you and now you’ll be trying to get rid of the dust for months.”
Nicola Golding is a disabled writer from the UK. She loves cats more than she loves most people, and loves tea almost as much as she loves cats.
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