Savage Sound

Originally published in Tiger Train Magazine

Once I saw a man fighting with his girlfriend on the phone punch a brick wall. It sounded like a firecracker exploding in a dog’s mouth. I hadn’t seen anything like that since middle school when Justin put his hand through the window of the library door because his girlfriend had played spin the bottle at a party he wasn’t at. Everything in the hallway stopped except his blood hitting the floor. The cracks in the glass were intricate and perfect even with the skin hanging from the edges. When they rebuilt Justin’s hand with screws and pins we thought he would be like the Terminator and that all the girls and bottles and windows would bend to his will. But Justin had heard that savage sound too and he only used his hands to cover his ears.

This man, the one who punched the bricks, broke his hand. He didn’t cry like Justin. He just kept yelling and bleeding, making crimson constellations nobody could make sense of.