Member-only story
This Is Us
Rage Becomes Her
Her anger filled all space,
expanding like thick grey smoke,
rainclouds building,
brimming with thunder,
a silent stagnant mass growing,
crackling across waves,
lit up by sudden flashes
ringing loud across the sky,
rumbling then exploding as it must.
Her anger skulked like a black cat,
fur set on end by ghosts,
unseen enemies,
fluffed by fear, hatred, fury,
always ready to spring;
like a porcupine, round-backed,
hiding soft belly flesh,
quills quivering against the world,
pricking itself from the effort.
Her anger filled the house
like a small scared child,
hunchbacked,
curled into the smallest corner,
seething to itself in the dark,
until, found by torchlight,
it stomps out flat-footed, tight-lipped,
to sit in mud, luxuriating in the stink,
waiting for someone else to clean the mess.
