Hector sat down in the rocking chair on the porch, brought a glass of cold lemonade to his lips and took in a slow sip. He was trying his best to relax but every time the breeze picked up and blew across the porch, a corner of the screen on the screen door would begin to flap. Each flutter of the loose screen taunted him until he could no longer take it. 

He stood up and slipped his well-worn tool belt around his waist. He took quick inventory of the tools housed in the leather pouch attached to the belt, they were all there. His heart began to race as he stepped toward the screen door. He stood there and surveyed the damage and watched the loose screen flap one more time in the breeze. “That will be the last time my friend,” he said aloud as he reached for the screwdriver in his tool belt.