Chapter 1 - The Kinetic Weight of Gold
The air in the living room tasted like copper and stale dust.
A heavy, gold-colored sledgehammer hung suspended at the apex of an arc.
The steel handle groaned under the white-knuckled grip of two hands.
Those hands belonged to a man whose grey Henley shirt was soaked dark at the collar.
His forearms were corded with thick, pulsing veins that twitched with every shallow breath he took.
Gravity begged to pull the heavy gold steel downward.
He held it back, his boots planted wide on the patterned living room rug.
Three feet to his right, a ceramic mug lay shattered into four jagged pieces.
Dark roast coffee seeped aggressively into the woven fibers of the rug.
The dark puddle expanded, creeping toward the tip of a woman’s beige leather shoe.
She did not step back.
She could not step back.
Her spine was pressed completely flat against the floral wallpaper of the living room wall.
Her beige cardigan hung precariously off her left shoulder, exposing the wrinkled collar of a light blue blouse.
Her hands were raised, palms facing outward, fingers splayed wide and trembling violently.
She wasn't looking at his face.
Her pupils were locked entirely on the gold head of the sledgehammer.
The man’s jaw shifted side to side, a loud grinding of molars echoing in the quiet room.
The tendons in his neck strained as he leaned forward.
"What."
The word was barely a whisper.
"Are."
The coffee puddle reached the toe of the woman's shoe.
"You hiding?"
He didn't wait for the sound of his own voice to fade.
May you like
He let gravity win.
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