The Elephant Man
She looked at her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. He'd never hit her in the face before, but last night he'd been so worked up. How could one person hold so much rage inside them? He'd been so sweet and sorry this morning. Brought her an icepack and breakfast in bed. He'd even called in to work for her, told them she was puking and couldn't come in.
She knew better, too. Last night he'd been brooding, and instead of staying quiet and out of his way, she'd gone on about the new table she wanted to get from Ikea. How could she be so stupid? She knew he wasn't in the mood. If only she'd kept quiet. Instead, she'd badgered him to look, and he'd hauled off and slammed her into the wall.
It wasn't his fault; she'd pushed him. He'd been having a rough time at work lately. The boss was being an asshole. She felt sorry for him. He worked so hard and never seemed to get ahead. She wished she could help him, help him be less angry. Maybe if she kept the house cleaner, or cooked nicer dinners. Instead she'd pestered him and made him more mad.
She touched the bruise tenderly. It was quite the shiner - he'd smacked her right cheek, and she'd fallen and hit her left eye on the door handle. The eye was almost closed and very purple. She looked deformed, like an elephant man.
She washed her face gently, and straightened her hair, then went downstairs to tidy the house.
She knew better, too. Last night he'd been brooding, and instead of staying quiet and out of his way, she'd gone on about the new table she wanted to get from Ikea. How could she be so stupid? She knew he wasn't in the mood. If only she'd kept quiet. Instead, she'd badgered him to look, and he'd hauled off and slammed her into the wall.
It wasn't his fault; she'd pushed him. He'd been having a rough time at work lately. The boss was being an asshole. She felt sorry for him. He worked so hard and never seemed to get ahead. She wished she could help him, help him be less angry. Maybe if she kept the house cleaner, or cooked nicer dinners. Instead she'd pestered him and made him more mad.
She touched the bruise tenderly. It was quite the shiner - he'd smacked her right cheek, and she'd fallen and hit her left eye on the door handle. The eye was almost closed and very purple. She looked deformed, like an elephant man.
She washed her face gently, and straightened her hair, then went downstairs to tidy the house.
posted by Deirdre at 12:53 p.m.
2 Comments:
Wow D. Powerful imagery there. Where did that come from. Strong context. Thanx for shering your talent.
Thanks Jack - it was just one of my writing excercises. I pulled a card that said "Elephant Man" and that story happened. No personal experience involved.
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