A Tender Heart Breaks

A Tender Heart Breaks

“Aww, the poor thing! It's trapped between the two panes of glass in the door!”

“What is it, Percy?” his wife Rachel asked, peering over his shoulder.

“It’s a beautiful moth! It’s struggling!” commented her husband in a sad voice.

“Leave it to me, I’ll take care of it!” his wife said coldly.

“Don’t hurt it!” Percy insisted.

“Don’t worry I won’t, it will be over before it knows it.”

Rachel, fly swatter in hand, raised the inside window. With a vicious slap, she ended the life of the insect.

“I asked you not to hurt it,” Percy said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t, it was a swift death.”

“How would you like it if someone larger than you, took a weapon to you?”

Aghast, Rachel watched as Percy took up the fireplace shovel in one hand and the poker in the other.

“What are you doing, you wishy washy milquetoast?” she asked haughtily.

“Showing you what it’s like to be viciously attacked for no reason except that you exist,” Percy said between blows with first one hand then the other.

Soon she lay silent on the floor, bloody and battered. He looked down until the blank look left his eyes.

“Goodness Rachel, what have you done to yourself?”

Then he focused on what he was holding in his hands.

“I knew you would provoke me too far. Can’t say I regret it. You’ve had it coming. I may have a tender heart for nature, but you had no heart at all.”

He looked around dazed. His eyes fell on the telephone.

“Perhaps a private hospital for rich and fragile people would be best. I shall check myself into Pine Hill. The nice young men in their clean white coats can come and take me away!