By Traci Mullins
The hail struck her roof like gunshots, matching the cacophony inside her as Grief and Anger battled it out. Anger was winning and she was glad. Sorrow was a flabby excuse for a feeling; only Rage could muffle the wailing inside her. She’d be damned if his leaving would be her undoing. She flung the door open and screamed into the gale.
“I write to indulge my inner child.” – the writer
One thought on “A Fight to the Finish”