An hour ago he wouldn’t have believed that he could do such a thing.
He was sweating. He looked down. He was still holding the heavy mallet. He had been considering the possibility of doing it for some time. Today, when he got home, something had triggered him into action. Maybe it was the thought of having to put up with the ongoing unfinished business every time he came home; came home to the same old thing. Her continual harping on about how useless he was. He wondered whether it was stopping at his local with a workmate; having a couple of beers before coming home, had anything to do with it? Could this had given him Dutch courage? He didn’t think so, knowing how to go about it was hard enough, without being drunk and messing it up.
The rubber mallet slipped out of his sweaty hand and bounced on the carpet. He wasn’t much of a DIY man, but he stepped back further and admired it. She’s going to be so pleased when she gets home, he thought.
A new bookcase for that corner of the room was exactly what she wanted.