Becoming Woman, Part 4

“Bitch.” Her neck snaps backwards, and she sees stars.  His knuckles are stained indigo, flecked with red. The red is a sharp contrast to his pressed, collared black shirt. Dimly, she registers the throbbing of her cracked nose. He’s screaming at her, but she can’t hear him. Everything is muted underneath a milky film of …

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