Destruction.

Anna sighed with a heavy heart. A broken heart.

Shattered glass and crockery lined the tiled floors in the kitchen. The couch was ripped apart in the corner and the stuffing strewn about everywhere. Alf the dog, wandered around, unsure of what to do.

Bits of chairs were strewn about - some broken, some splintered. The only thing that didn't seem to be touched was the big heavy kitchen island in the centre of the room. Pictures on the walls were either hanging loose or ripped down.

Stepping carefully over the glass, Anna picked up the brush. Moving the first pile into the corner, she couldn't continue. She collapsed onto the floor and cried. She gave up at the first attempt.

Picking herself up and wiping her eyes, Anna stepped out into the hall. The visual mess were even greater there. The shock of it made her gasp.

The big urns that once stood either side of the front door were completely obliterated. Their pale blue pieces were strewn from the door right through into the study.

Where did she start? The destruction was colossal.

But the physical mess paled in comparison with the emotional one.

The terrible news she had initially suspected, was true. She had found receipts.

And after a full bottle of vodka, Anna flew into a vicious rage.

She took it out on her house.