I raised the hammer above my head, flinching as it bounced off the roof above me.
‘Dammit,’ I muttered to myself. The owners were not going to be happy with me for that one. I’d barely managed to get them to let me renovate their bathroom, even at a ridiculously discounted rate. Now I had to replaster and paint a section of the roof.
‘Damn,’ I repeated, letting my shoulders sink with a deep sigh.
I picked the hammer back up, swinging it more carefully toward the tiles that I was trying to hit. They shattered with a satisfying crash, and I grinned as the pieces tumbled into the bath. This was my favourite part, why I fought so hard for the job.
I just loved to watch the tiles smash.
They wanted someone to modify a bath as well, but I told them that wasn’t turf I tread on – the companies who did that were not to be trifled with.
So they had someone else coming out to rip the tub out and put a better, more age-appropriate bathtub in its place. Good for them too – more people should do it, I often thought.
I lifted the hammer again, frowning at an unexpected crashing sound, as the room tumbled into darkness. I spun around, expecting to see somebody at the door, having just hit the light switch – may be one of those people who specialised in bath modifications around Sydney. I already had my pleading prepared, but… there was nobody there.
Confused, I looked around for what had happened – and noticed the sprinkling of glass that now decorated the tiles on the floor and the tops of my bare feet.
‘Dammit,’ I hissed again. ‘The lightbulb?!’
I grumbled to myself, as I took a tentative step towards the door, glass crunching with every slight movement. I couldn’t tell if I was bleeding, but after the day I was having I truly wouldn’t have been surprised.
That’s it, I told myself. I’m done – no more doing favours for my parents.