Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Walks. angrily.

He. walks. angrily.

Too much. It is
too much. He has
reached his ultimate
limit. He will
not
take it
any
more.

Overwhelmed with her absurdity
she
walks towards the door,
ashamed of her anger,
ashamed of the
emotions
brimming
threatening to spill
over the slightly curved edge.

His. heels. make.
a clipping sound on
the tiled floor.
He crosses with purpose.
His steps echo
against empty walls.
Too much.
It is too much.
He will not take it
any
more.

She opens the door
to a room with empty
walls and hears
the sound
of clipping footsteps...
can feel the irritation.

Her shoulders tighten.
Her muscles clench
down her back and
even her toes
curl. just. slightly.

Too much. Too much. Too much.
It is just too much.
He has had enough.
Rounding a corner,
nearly running into
a person blocking. his. way.
He bangs the door open.

He. walks. angrily.
almost running now.
He'll show them.

Her eyes fill with
tears
as she mounts the stairs
one
by
slow
one,
tightly gripping the handrail
as she goes.

You know,
anger
rots
the air it occupies.

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