That Day

Form: Three or four sentence prose-poem

Something was weighing on her mind that day when I asked her how she was doing as I came in from work and the sweet natured girl I knew with her smile of delight just wasn’t there, instead she raged at me in frustrated aggression, her words spitting and biting like a disturbed viper. Swearing and hitting at me over and over again. I shrank into the chair in the living room, first whispering then yelling for her to stop. She sat on the floor crying as I made tea, she talked, I listened, and the moment we both feared faded into the silent future of making the most of it.

Photo by Nathan Cowley on Pexels.com

©JGFarmer2020

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