If the wind caught him right he could still smell her on his clothes. He wished he could destroy the wind. Tear it apart limb by limb, like a Barbie doll, for reminding him so soon. He wanted to punch a park bench; to set fire to someone’s picnic basket. He wanted to dropkick the faces of everyone who publicly pressed them together. What he really wanted to do was jump. He wanted to jump from the bridge down the block. To take that happy, kayaking couple out with him. To destroy love would be grand, but all he could muster was a slow shamble down the middle of the road as drivers passed.