Time for another Tuesday Tidbit from D.R Breshears!
Very short, not very sweet, but most importantly, very to the point (get it?).
Hector had a fit. It wasn’t a normal 6-year old tantrum. It was a quick spurt of madness. It was dark and it was sad, and it was overall shockingly uncontrollable. It was in all senses of the word, a fit.
Sitting at the kitchen island, her morning coffee barstool sanded down to the perfect height to allow her to hang her feet over the last ledge, she heard a scream. It broke the house’s silence like an angry ex-boyfriend, needing to be heard in the most violent manner possible.
It was weird how slowly she moved in that moment, how unconcerned she was about it. It was so blood-curdling, so absolutely high-pitched and terrified that she hadn’t even thought of Hector. Him being in harm’s way wasn’t even on her mind.
Sitting her coffee cup down carefully on blue-tiled countertop so as to not spill any, she hopped down to the floor light-footed.
Her steps were quick and swift as another scream broke the houses calm silence. Again, not Hector. Not Hector.
Just as she reached the third step she heard it.
Glass. Glass was shattering. It was that oh-so-fragile, almost beautiful, exciting sound of glass breaking into a million little pieces. Hector.