He saw the garbage bin piled high, trailing flies looping and diving above it, and figured that would do about as fine as anything would. He walked around to the back of the metal bin, stepping over fallen bags and litter, his hands itching for the relief of expulsion, then squared up both fists and let them fly. His knuckles jammed into the metal side, first crunching, then immediately caving it in.
Geoff breathed. He breathed again. The first one was always the most satisfying, the second one took off the pressure, and the third hit was just for fun. When he finally stepped back, spreading his fingers wide to confirm the feeling had left, he was panting like he’d run a ten-mile race for his life.
“Well, there we go.”
Geoff looked up, startled, and stared directly in Doren’s amused face.
“Feel better?”
Oh, and wasn’t that just great. No doubt Doren thought he was a complete nut-job. He tried for casual, shrugging, “I just needed to let off some steam.”