Albert Walker looked at the sharp knife in his hands and felt angry.

He walked over to the broken window where his ex through a shoe at it and remembered how much he hated her. He had always loved The Farm with its careful, cows. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel something.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alice Hemingway. Alice was his ex with tattooed arm and skinny hands.

Albert gulped. He glanced at his broken window....