He placed the round record on the player and closed his eyes to the beautiful piano piece.
He gazed out the window to his daisies. He smiled as he saw his his aging face in the reflection.
He then drew his attention to the large crack in his sink. . He would fix it later. He was busy at the moment.
He then looked to his mantle. A yellow picture frame with her on it. Marla. The love of his life. She lived next door. Quite a few years younger than him. She was beautiful.
But on with the day.
He grabbed his hammer on the table and a small box of screws.
He walked downstairs to his cellar.
Dark, almost empty.
Before he started, he reached for the knob on the record player and turned the volume as loud as it would go.
He slowly steadied the screw with his hand and hammered away. Never stopping. A constant motion. Grabbing a screw, nailing it in, Grabbing a screw and nailing it in. He reached for the handkerchief in his back pocket to wipe away the red, thick mess.