silmeraana

Steve awoke one cold morning in November to find his window broken and a brick sitting merrily on his rug. The brick was merry because it was not alone: along with it sat a rock, several bottles, a shoe, and a smoldering, badly constructed Molotov Cocktail. Steve thought this was a little odd. He looked out the broken window to find a small mob gathered on the front lawn of his suburban home. Steve was also surprised to find his trash can appeared to be on fire. Upon seeing Steve's confused face peer out the shattered window, the mob kindly returned Steve's TV through his window, narrowly missing Steve himself. "Dude! That was my TV! And my

                Coffee was splattered in tiny puddles among the shards of pink ceramic that lay on the floor, and a larger stain of it dripped down the wall a few feet above. The handle of the mug had managed to remain whole, incongruous among the smaller pieces. The edges were blades of daggers. Some of the shards were very small. She had thrown the mug hard. It was the noise that had broken Andrea's control. It should have been quiet at 1:43 in the morning, should have been dark outside. The screams, laughter and fireworks, the car horns and headlights, the thundering music and shuddering sobs had assaulted her senses through the wall,