Summer weighed the rubber mallet in one hand, eyeing the box of aluminium cans. She got down on her knees, planting one empty can upright on a scrap piece of board outside, and hefted the mallet again.

It wasn’t even that it had been a particularly bad day. She just felt — off. Angry, for no reason.

Smashy.

Hence, the empty cans. Lifting the mallet high, she brought it down squarely on the top of the can. It kinda … bounced. The rim crushed a little, sideways.

“Well /that’s/ interesting.” She smacked it again, a little off-centre. That strike produced a satisfying crunch and a flatter can. Tossing it back in the box, she set up another can.