Again with the swearing. I think I have Tourette’s.
He glanced at his watch impatiently. The inanimate object had suddenly become the focus of his hatred. The way the face shone in the early afternoon sunlight, mocking him, daring him. The way the gold reminded him of that little band that used to be around his finger. The band that never really left because now there was a permanent tan line encircling the newly naked appendage.
The watchband felt tight on his wrist. Uncomfortable and tugging at the small hairs, that bloody watch was.
People walked past him without a second glance. He eyed the watch. His anger began to boil over.
Tearing the watch from his wrist he stared at it for a few more seconds before slamming it to the ground. “Piece of shit! I hate you! I hate everything about you! I hate ten years of marriage. I hate the postman, the pool boy, the boss you screwed, my fucking best friend!” he shouted as he repeatedly stomped on the watch, not caring that pieces of the thing were flying every which direction. He also didn’t care that people were staring.
He continued his mad rant until the watch lie broken into a million pieces before him and his energy was spent.
As people went back to their business, his mobile began to ring. He mopped the beads of sweat from his brow and pulled out his phone.
“Jack Bensen,” he answered.
“Jack, hey. It can be settled today. Dinah is willing to give you everything. The house, the cars, the bank account. She only has one demand.”
“What’s that?” Jack asked, incredulous.
“She requests that you return her grandfather’s gold watch to her, for sentimental reasons.”
Jack looked up to see another patron in the train yard advancing toward him. “Excuse me, sir. Would you happen to have the time?”
Jack looked down at the bits and pieces of his watch impatiently.