The knife thrust again and again into the board.
The butcher knife digging deep into the two inch thick game board.
Ripping into the numbers dividing them, separating into units of different measure, now altered in time and space for infinity.
The repeated stabbing of multiple numbers, driven by madness appears to be a shear psychotic episode of truly deviant nature.
The wire bounces on the board helplessly as the mutilation continues violently without restraint. The game board penetrated more then a hundred times it appeared.
The knife digging in again and again as the screams of rage hallow breaking the silence in the dark of night.
The cutting, the stabbing, the dissecting, of a game board sobbing with insane jealousy as the knife does irreparable harm, the damage forever taking its toll.
The march madness wails through the night.
The dart board severed, destroyed in a fit of rage as if it was the face of the one once loved.
The numbers 20, 19, 18, 17 and so on respective dismembered as if in a game of cricket gone terribly wrong.
The patient says to the therapist, you know it is usually the client who is the last person to know they are crazy.
Joking the client laughs, its march madness and its more than just a game.