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July 3, 2005

Tanya: Breaking Locks

They walked through the house, horrified at the damage done during their vacation.

The sofa and chairs lay demolished, smashed to bits. Shattered bowls covered the kitchen floor, their insides caked with a crusty paste, gone rancid and moldy. Mary held their only son, quaking and weeping quietly.

John knew he should call the authorities, but instead he grabbed a a baseball bat and climbed the stairs. There, in the boy's bedroom, the vandal waited. A pretty blonde girl, eyes wide with rage and madness. She turned from raking the wall with her fingernails, just as John swung the bat.

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