The Blow

“Don’t ever dare to say that in front of me again-“

A word twists and turns in your tongue and you’re ready to spit it out. Someone’s going to receive the blow, someone’s ready to take it. Someone out there is walking past you carrying the world on their shoulders and you’re going to hit her and hit her hard with that heated iron rod so that it drives through her head and burns her brains. She’s ready to catch it, not knowing that the moment she does she would melt under the heat and the power of the blow. The million needles that your words sound like are about to shoot through her eyes. The needles so sharp that they hurt her before she knows.The word still twists in your tongue… she’s approaching. It’s time to decide, time to make the choice to a question that has no options. You shout, you scream, you throw your entire life at her. You spit out the words, you throw the flaming iron rod, the millions of needles… and in the end you throw yourself at her. She’s cornered, she has no where to go… the only person she could turn to has now turned to someone else. She’s defenseless, she’s looking at you with eyes that plead and ask you to let her go. You stare into her eyes trying to scare her life out of her but something happens. Something changes. The words choke you, the rod falls down, the needles backfire and tear your eyes instead… your mouth dries, you’re staring at her still and your mind screams the words at you. You take two steps back, turn around and walk away. Who was she? A word twists and turns in your tongue and you’re ready to spit it out. Someone’s going to receive the blow, someone’s ready to take it.

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