It was always something.
I would be looking up, finding my way out, and then something would remind me that I’d better watch my feet.
I’d trip, I’d fall, and after I was done dusting myself off, I’d remind myself that that was just how things were.
***It was raining cats and dogs - of course - and I was wearing the patent ballerinas I had
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Comments 20
Poor woman. :(
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If I may be allowed to offer you a bit of constructive criticism -- because I liked the piece very much! -- when you rewrite this, if you rewrite this, I'd foreshadow the abuse more strongly in your descriptive paragraphs. Start off slow and then slip in more and more detail. You want the reader to scratch his/her head and think, Huh! Is this what I think it is? until -- Bingo! -- at the end: It is.
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The fact that none of her girlfriends seemed to like Steve tipped me off. The fact that she withdrew from her friends more, that the one friend was worried about why she ended up in the hospital -- it clicked from the third section in, for me.
The end of this is absolutely chilling.
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