Light fades. I stand in the entryway of my apartment like a statue, barely breathing. I hear him shouting again. My hand rests on the doorknob, forehead against the cool steel door. It feels comforting against my reddened face. I cry for her most days. A tear, a caught breath... a lingering look to tell her I'm sorry. She always turns away first.
I
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Comments 9
The solution-- call the police!-- seems so simple and obvious, except that the woman is not taking the safety she and her child need, and so the aftermath is worse.
Three times is a lot of times to hope and have it fall flat, but at the same time, there's the risk the husband will someday kill his wife and/or their child.
You painted that dilemma, and the fear of the wrong choice when all the choices are bad, very strongly and emotionally here.
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I love how you take us into this, slowly revealing the protagonist's dilemma.
Great take on the prompt!
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I love how you take us into this, slowly revealing the protagonist's dilemma.
Great take on the prompt!
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