061 - slip comet

"I can't help myself," Danny muttered under his breath. He sighed. He looked on down the beach, along the steady rhythm of the breaking surf. Today would be a good day for Danny's compulsions, but a bad day for his sense of moral integrity.

He hated what he did, but there he was. Standing there, he was looking at about ten targets that he could easily prey upon. Another wave crashed in upon the shore, wetting the sand. Danny's fists clenched and shook tightly. His brain was fighting with itself, fighting the impulses of impending pleasure coupled with the feeling that somewhere, deep down in that gray matter, he knew it was wrong.

And so for a few brief moments, he was able to contain himself. In those moments, his morality was winning the struggle, but it never was able to hold on for long. It felt like an eternity to Danny, but for the rest of the world, only a few seconds had elapsed before he lost his control, and took off down the beach running.

After another fifteen seconds or so of sprinting, Danny had reached the first of them. His heart was beating excitedly, like it wanted to rip out of his chest. He hardly slowed down as he unleashed his fury.

Danny began kicking crazily at the sandcastle in front of him. As he bore down upon it, a plume of sand began to rise up around him. Some got in and stung at his eyes, and some made his lungs burn as he breathed it in. But Danny didn't care. The pleasure of seeing the sandcastle being reduced to nothing was enough to override any other feelings he might otherwise be experiencing.

The little boy who had heretofore been constructing this sand castle jumped back, and for a moment, was too shocked to figure out what was going on. He wondered why this fully grown man was pulverizing his sandcastle that he had worked so diligently on.

The boy's father, who had been sitting a short distance away on a beach chair, did not stand idly by when he saw what was occurring. He stood up from his chair and yelled out to Danny. "Hey, you idiot fuck! What the fuck are you doing to my son's sandcastle?!" He began to run over towards the scene Danny was creating.

Even though Danny was overcome with pleasure, some part of his brain was still active enough to alert him to the oncoming danger. He looked down at his feet, and decided that the sandcastle was sufficiently demolished, anyway. He began running off down the shore, toward the next sandcastle.

The boy's father remained in hot pursuit, which gave Danny a nice shot of adrenaline that only served to heighten his enjoyment of what he was doing. He knew he had to keep moving, so as he approached the second sandcastle, he just threw his whole body into it, feet first, as if he were participating in some sort of demented Olympic long jump event.

As he crashed into it, the sandcastle came tumbling down, and Danny felt better than ever. He perhaps let himself revel in the joy of it all for a moment too long, which he would soon realize. He began to pick himself up, to continue on to the next sandcastle.

Climbing up out of the sand that constituted the rubble of the second sandcastle he had demolished, he felt something descend upon him. It was the boy's father, who unleashed his own fury with his fist upon the back of Danny's head.

Danny's body slumped over in the ruins that he had created. The world went black, and for a while, at least, he would be able to escape his demons.