for Magpie Tale 146
Thwack! Whack, thwacktiy, thwack!
The sound gave a distinct impression of gleeful justice with
just a touch of wild abandon. Ellen dropped the bread knife and ran for the piano
room.
Her son Carter, looked up in sudden guilt. In his hand: the hammer.
On the floor before him: the metronome. Splintered; pounded; conquered.
I think I always knew he wanted to crush the metronome. Perhaps thought Ellen we should rethink the music lessons.
I think I always knew he wanted to crush the metronome. Perhaps thought Ellen we should rethink the music lessons.