And then I swung, harder than I ever had before, harder even than when I’d destroyed the china hutch, punching a white crater into the glass as big my head, causing cracks to spread out in rings, like a contagion, I thought, or a cancer, until I swung again and the head of the hammer smashed clean through, enough so that I had to fight to pull it back out, after which Fiona joined in and we smashed through the glass together, not all at once but blow after blow, until the bitter shards lay all around us and we fell to the flag’s faded cloth, kissing and groping each other with abandon, unfastening and working off each other’s clothes, f*****g like it was the end of the world, which of course it was—consuming each other like paper in fire.
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It goes without saying that I was drivin
