Wednesday, September 22, 2010


Today's muse: Sunday Scribblings
Today's word: Clean

* * *


Water, scalding hot, formed billowing clouds as it sluiced over her. Amanda stood with her hands against the tiled wall, her head bowed beneath the torrent, blonde hair drooped like string. Her skin, red and raw from scrubbing, bled in some places, but that was from him. The bruising was coming up, too, she noted.

She closed her eyes to avoid the angry, purple marks shaped, unmistakeably, like fingers; but when she did, all she could see was his face looming before her, feel the tearing and burning as he—

She dropped to her knees and retched.


Deborah said...

Oh my goodness that's a strong piece ... vivdly painted and well written!

glnroz said...