Timmy launched a rock at Old Man Schaffer’s window, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He didn’t care about the damage. He wanted revenge.
It was one year ago tonight that he was on the business end of his father’s leather belt. Apparently, Old Man Schaffer didn’t like his house covered in eggs and toilet paper and dropped a dime. Understandable.
But why single him out? There were other kids there. Why only him?
The shattering of glass shocked him back to reality.
Timmy sprinted away smiling.
If he got the belt again, at least he’d earned it.
The Weekday One Hundred 