Friday, 17 October 2008


Martin pulled off his red checked shirt and kicked out at the bail of logs that he had stored in the barn. He screamed inside at the pain of being a woodcutter. He thought he'd found happiness, a job he loved and a beautiful woman too. Martin lunged for the radio that was pissing him off, love songs had just begun and ended as eighteen stone threw it against the floor. He unscrewed the lid from his gasoline can and dowsed the whole barn it it. He placed out a cigarette and opened a bottle of rum. He had being saving it, his wife thought he'd quit. He angered at himself why he even bothered to make her happy, when all shes done is take. He sat on a bail of hay and listened to the pigs oink for scraps, the chickens were in need of feeding too. Martin cryed, first time in a long time. He took a look around his office, the barn. And how he's worked so hard on this farm. He knows what he must do now. Martin makes his plan as the liquor takes effect, a mouse scurries by. He examines himself in his dirty mirror that rested against a few weight plates, and reminds his dark looks that he needs a shave. Martin yanks out his hatchet from the tree stump, and burried it in the middle of his punchbag hanging up.
He waits for Fiona to finish her shift at the town library, he knows that bastard will be with her. Why? What's he going to do.
Martin can hear the 4x4 pull up accompanied by slamming doors and whispers.
'Fuckin whispers!'
Then Martin hears her screams.
'She found her dog then, all cut up.'
Fiona and her lover fought to find mobiles as Martin made his way towards them whistling 'Always look on the bright side of life'
He looked straight at her eyes and the could see the guilt, the lies and best of all...his child hood secrets that he had shared with her,only her. Tormented abuse.
Her lover attempted to calm Martin down by extending his hand, which Martin hacked right off.
'What are you doing!' screamed Fiona covering her cheeks in dispair.
'Don't make this about you love.' Martin commented as he struck her lover with a knee to the chin, knocking him down.
Martin had cracked, his heart was leading the way. He knew this was wrong but she had to pay. He grabbed her by the hair and punched her in the neck. The attack killed her in seconds.
The lover was tougher than the man he seemed and tackled Martin to the ground. Martin swung the axe repeatably making trudge marks in lovers head, soon he had no head.
Martin staggered back to his barn and lit his cigarette. He sat on his bail of hay and watched the flames make their way around him. He whistled himself away with an old Beatles song...'The things we do for love.'

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