He feels, to put it mildly, distraught. They’ve been married for seven years. He was so happy, a remarkably uncynical man in a very cynical age. But he’s just found out that those seven years have all been a lie.

Enraged, he wanders out into the shed and begins taking out his aggression on the table, the wheelbarrow, the plain wooden walls. He feels so angry, so betrayed. His world is shattered, his dreams crushed. He brings his fists down on the work table in the shed so hard the wood crackles and splinters. He stops.

And he cries.

Silently, his sits with his head in his arms rested on that table, sobbing. The sadness has overwhelmed him. But not for long. Again, he lashes out around him. Their time together, their home, their child, even this shed – all of it was a lie.

And then he hears her open the shed door. He looks at her, and where once he felt joy and love he fells nothing but hatred and rage.

In time to come, he will regret his actions tonight, as she enters the shed.

She will not come out.

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