Not a second ago, she had been screaming at you
But now there’s just an eerie silence.
She’s shocked, absolutely astonished --
Everyone around heard you call her that.

As you watch her bring her right hand back in slow motion, you tense yourself
Without dreaming of trying to dodge it.
You know you somewhat deserve it because you really, really should not have said that, let alone in public.

The crack of her palm against your left cheek echoes off the nearby buildings and trees.
Cars swerve and people jump for cover thinking the sonic explosion is a pistol shot.
You don’t take a step back, you don’t fall down -- You go flying.
Twenty feet back, at least, spiraling and revolving in the air like an awkwardly thrown football.

Then you hit the ground on your hip.
That disgusting, haunting crunch scars the memory of all who heard.
And then you bounce up again like a stone hitting a good wave.
On the second impact, you land on your head and promptly die.

She’ll hire a good lawyer and probably get half a year of probation for “involuntary manslaughter.”
I know it’s kind of rough, and it’s not fair at all.
But you really should not have said that.