No More

He had finished dragging all the big pieces to the shed by moonlight. He couldn't remember how he did it. Did anyone see? The boughs of the elm in the yard shaded the radiating street lights that vainly try to brighten the lives of those who wander the backstreets. He shrank into the shade of the doorway and fell silent, listening for the sounds only a suspicious mind could imagine. A pause, feeling like an eternity was filled with nothing but dead air. He inhaled deeply and closing his eyes he leaned into the wooden frame of the door. It smelled like seasoned cedar. He looked into the garage at what he'd dragged in and descended upon it. Closing the door shut tight before turning on the hook light, he took in the seriousness of the situation. Frightening shadows cast by the lamp made his thin and normally harmless form turn into something as macabre as his intentions. Disbelief would have crowded his wrenched mind if only he would stop rationalizing his actions. It's too late now... He needed something sharp to finish his work. The clockwork of his brain was so jammed. Everything was built up to this and the release would be the end of all his frustration and pain. The first blow came and the tension from his knotted neck and face unwound and gave him the courage to strike again. A large chunk flew off and hit his shins. He would clean it up later. For now, it was about the violence and he brought down the axe. The axe he had never used because he told himself that he bought it for cutting hedges and yard work. He'd known all along what it was really going to be used for. He looked down at the destruction created by his hands and the tool held in them. He exhaled years of lies and poison. He would never use a computer again for as long as he lived.