Through the door

“So, when should we—“ I began before a sudden, monstrous impact slammed into my chest and threw me through the door, across the street, and into the Maple house. I knocked over the table and chairs as I flew into the kitchen and then dented the refrigerator before I stopped—a pretty light swing, all told.

“I always wanted to smash someone through that door,” I heard my father muse as he casually walked to the doorway, resting an arm against the frame. “Opportunities don’t come along as often as you might think.”