The Stranger

I stopped LB happily mending the downstairs toilet this morning, once it started leaking. He went apeshit. With a spanner in his hand. The language was dripping with expletives and the toilet seat took a hammering. With his head. He stormed passed me and went upstairs. I hung up some shirts in the wardrobe and the rail fell down. The rage continued upstairs, directed at me. I put my keys in my pocket and hovered near the front door. Billy Joel’s The Stranger came on the radio.

Yep, I thought. That just about sums it up.