My husband's open hand smacked against my right cheek. The force of the blow spun me in a half circle to the living room floor. Bright neon sparks flashed around me, like the first time I witnessed a Fourth of July celebration.
This is powerful. I once witnessed a scene like this when I was a child and I'll never forget it. What a great juxtaposition: the idea of a celebration and a... fight.
I'm sorry you had to see such a thing. This is a story of a woman standing up for herself and struggling to understand issues burried by the atatus quo.
yep - this grabbed me, but if i was worried about reading a violence toward women story, it would ward me off... so... i think that's smart, and i think it's fair!
Grab the reader.
Post the first line/s of your poems & the first sentence/s of your stories to see if we want to keep reading.
Post as little or as much as you want – it’s your test.
Hook us. We'll let you know if you're there yet.
This is a public group.
Anyone can see it and join.