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(
would
know
)
this
one
.
An
overturned
chair
.
A
broken
window
with
snow
swirling
in
;
already
it
had
frosted
the
edge
of
the
rug
.
The
drapes
had
been
pulled
free
and
hung
on
their
broken
rod
at
an
angle
.
A
low
cabinet
lying
on
its
face
.
More
hollow
booming
noises
,
steady
,
rhythmic
,
horrible
.
Smashing
glass
.
Approaching
destruction
.
A
hoarse
voice
,
the
voice
of
a
madman
,
made
the
more
terrible
by
its
familiarity
:
Come
out
!
Came
out
,
you
little
shit
!
Take
your
medicine
!
Crash
.
Crash
.
Crash
.
Splintering
wood
.
A
bellow
of
rage
and
satisfaction
.
REDRUM
.
Coming
.
Drifting
across
the
room
.
Pictures
torn
off
the
walls
.
A
record
player
(
?
Mommy
’
s
record
player
’
!
)
overturned
on
the
floor
.
Her
records
,
Grieg
,
Handel
,
the
Beatles
,
Art
Garfunkel
,
Bach
,
Liszt
,
thrown
everywhere
.
Broken
into
jagged
black
pie
wedges
.
A
shaft
of
light
coming
from
another
room
,
the
bathroom
,
harsh
white
light
and
a
word
flickering
on
and
off
in
the
medicine
cabinet
mirror
like
a
red
eye
,
REDRUM
,
REDRUM
,
REDRUM
-
"
No
,
"
he
whispered
.
"
No
,
Tony
please
-
"
And
,
dangling
over
the
white
porcelain
lip
of
the
bathtub
,
a
hand
.
Limp
.
