A smashing time

Date: 12/26/2018

Melatonin dreams again, and unprocessed rage maybe? “I have gone to Liz’s pottery stall at the craft fair. I know why I am there. I have a large stone mallet and I plan to smash the shit out of her Stall. But just as I get there, she looks up and tells me I’m a good writer and that she likes my work. “Really?” I say, surprised by her warmth. “Really.” She smiles back. I am surprised by the warmth of it. But then I remember, I was here to break all her pottery. So I do. I lift my hammer and bring it down on a table of plates which hurl off to the side and shatter with the most delightful sound. “Hey!” She says. I bring the hammer down again and smash some cups before she is on me with a rage that suggests she might kill me. It’s ok. I fight back. Fighting for my life feels good” And there is some other stuff I don’t remember... and then I woke up.