At Peace And Happy

Maxwell swiped at the tiny cut at the edge of his lips.

A cut he could have easily dodged, yet he accepted it to welcome the pain.

The pain fuelled his frustration and he unleashed it on the unfortunate man who had blindly chosen the wrong target that evening.

By the time they were separated, the other man’s face was bloodied, and his girlfriend was crying real tears this time.

If Maxwell was in a better mood, he could have admired the dude’s resilience in coming for more even as he wobbled on his feet and the power of his punch got lesser and lesser.

But the piercing pain in his heart had been stirred by the barely felt punch of the man, and he kept pummelling him over and over again.

The female bartender’s continuous yell of “I will call the police! I am calling the police! The police are on their way!” did nothing to stop Maxwell.