Taking a baseball bat to a china shop, my friends story Options

[fairy_princess]

Taking a Baseball Bat to a China Shop (the decadence of letting go)

He came off the crowded street, his legs tired yet he had come too far to turn back. He tucks the bat away, hidden from view. He respectfully wipes his shoes on the welcome mat, and the door closes behind him. Taking a few adrenaline ridden steps forward, he looks around the room. It is old. The glass shelves and display cases jut out in a distastefully symmetric fashion, a complete contrast to the cobwebs and wooden beams that adorn the ceiling. A small counter sits in the corner, unattended. China surrounds him on all sides, each piece teetering on the edge of oblivion but defiantly remaining perfectly still. He had no names for their faces, but he knew them all. Silently they mocked him, much as they had time and time before. He had been caught on the poisonous barbs of the smooth white figures in the past. Their knives still remained in his back as a constant insatiable reminder of loss and mistake. For years he was unable and unwilling to break the silence. Not today. He was about to feel the Decadence of letting go.

His eyes lit, ignited by the fires of hope which had been so regularly extinguished by restraint and expectation. He allowed a grin of selfish pleasure to pass across the corners of his dry lips. Slowly he lowered the bat from his side and into his un-gloved hand. He had made no attempt to cover up his identity and lifting the bat above his head he felt the weight inside himself panic. It tried to long his arms down towards his side, to beg his doubt to rear its battered head. His grin widened. It was too late. He paused in the eye of the coming storm, and the weight buckled. It had no answer. He let go.

He brought the bat down upon the shelf in front of him, smashing through each sheet of glass and china with unexpected ease. He felt lighter. The bat flew around the room and he followed. His hands carried away leaving nothing in their wake. The shattering armies of bleach bone crockery danced and exploded in a cascade of relief and perfect destruction. He stopped, nothing remained unbroken. As soon as it had begun, it was over.

He breathed out. His breath no longer tainted by past reluctance. The weight from inside had disappeared and his shoulders rose. A bed of broken memories lay around him, the shards of loss and mistakes. The Silence had changed. The Cacophony was no longer painful. He sighed with relief and turned towards the door, resting the bat on the wall beside the exit. He knew he would return one day.

With a deep breath he stepped back onto the street. The world continued, oblivious.



**Just a short story my friend Gareth wrote-thought it was too good not be shared

Hope you like it!