High up on a hilltop he watched from his porcelain throne as she approached the front door of their marital home. The divorce settlement stipulated that she be gifted all four walls, and all four walls she would have – nothing more – nothing less.
With vindictive relish he’d stripped the property – first of its photos, then its furniture – the copper pipes, the electrics and finally the masonry, pairing back and back until the whole structure balanced precariously on a delicate outer eggshell.
A key turning in the lock was all it took – a seismic surge through gossamer that reduced the prize to worthless ash…
Written for: Friday Fictioneers
