I watched in silence. It consumed me the way it had in my mother's womb. It was muffled, a glaring silence that was only broken by the crack of his hand against her flesh. It was distended, as though I was hearing it as the fourth echo of an actual sound. I couldn't bear to watch as he fisted her hair in his hands, reared his meaty fist back, and…
Published on December 12, 2012 06:00