A Home

November 30, 2009
It shattered into a thousand, tiny, porcelain pieces scattered on the hardwood floor. She had thrown it so hard as the anger flooded threw her veins. Her heart was pounding and her throat was screaming in pain as she screamed in frustration. He dodged the little statue lightening fast as he tried to reach out and calm her. It was already too late though, her anger had taken over and her hot, frustrated tears fell down her red, burning cheeks. He knew he couldn't say anything to fix it. She pulled off a sneaker and wailed it with such a force straight at his head. She missed again. It left a hole in the wall, like the hole in her heart and the one being created in their house, their home, their happy place. He was losing her. Losing her to the anger, to his mistake. And before he could stop it...he lost her. Gone. Out the door with a bang. He fell to the floor, his heart shattered like their wedding statue she threw at him with such anger. She was gone. Tears fell from his eyes and joined hers on the floor. He reached down and felt them sad and still hot with anger. Suddenly, the door was open and fresh tears were falling to the ground from her eyes to the floor. A piercing pain on his cheek, on her hand. A soft touch on his lips, on her lips. She was home. They were home. Everything was going to be okay.

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