Mini-Story: Anger

Her heels clicked hard against the floorboards. She was in the hall with a curse under her breath. I heard the pocket door as it slid into place with a heave. It slammed against the back of its pocket and bounced back. I rolled further into the plush couch. The slap of her heels echoed clear through the room as she fumbled with her steps. I knew she hadn’t let go — she never did. She stumbled through the room as she turned every light on. Every time she passed by me, she ignored me. I jumped every time she passed.

Her heels smashed harder against the floor whenever she got close to me. At each light, she mumbled. A hazy curse on each one that refused to obey her, easily. I squinted against the brightness. My chest compressed.

Her heels smashed into the floor behind me. She tapped her foot as her scent wafted down. Desert Wildflower. It invaded my nose but made camp in the back of my throat.

I rolled over and was met by the fumes of her breath. She jabbed at my nose, but hit the dip between my nose and cheek. She tried again, and managed to hit a nostril. She chortled. More fumes spewed from her mouth, and pooled out when she let it hang open. Her mouth snapped shut.

She whispered, “you drove me to this.”

“You drove me to this!” Her finger jabbed hard at my nose.