Wednesday, July 24, 2002

His foot smashed into the

His foot smashed into the door heel first, the full force of his muscular legs driving against the bland expressionlessness of its expanse.  The sound was deafening.  He was visualizing his foot passing through the plane of the door, his blow coming to completion just the other side of that vertical surface.  The heavy heel of his boot carried a lot of momentum.  He rolled to his side.  “I’ve broken my foot,” he whispered through clenched teeth.  The boot was starting to fill with blood.  No one else was there.  The door was laughing at him.