The Caretaker

It was my sanctuary. Away from those that mocked, that didn’t understand. I’d drawn round the tools on the wall, like a dead body’s chalk outline. Easy to spot something missing.

Nothing wrong with order I thought as I rubbed the ball hammer with a Dettol wipe and returned it to the relevant place.

I chose a saw, removed the protective cover. Sharp well oiled blade glinted in the strip light’s glare. Walked up the steps and over to my van. The lumps there in bin bags, no prying eyes to question me now as I finished what I’d started.