His life had been hard and he’d become hard as a result, and so was infinitely unprepared for Debbie.
“I always knew… That we were solid. That whatever shit came our way we’d take it on together. That even on days when we hated each other we would take each other’s hands and get through it, together.”
His muscles all tensed and he opened his mouth to scream, but the rushing air caught the sound in his throat and he stifled.
From the moment he’d met her he was convinced she was the one for him and he loved every part of her.
Marcus wrote the words hoping that getting them out of his head and onto paper would somehow make the nightmare go away, but like the bite of hard liquor or the smell of rotten meat, that kind of isolation lingered.
Content warning: Violence and themes of rape.
He was sitting on the steps outside the courthouse where he’d just been told that his now ex-wife was getting full custody of their child and dog.
His father had been a farmer, and his father’s father had been a farmer, and so on for as far back as anyone cared to remember.
Concert by D.I. Jolly The war started at 2:34 pm while George was at work. He wasn’t a simple man, but he enjoyed the simple life. He took pleasure in the small things, sunsets, hot coffee on a cold day, the high notes his wife Susanna could reach, when she’d had a couple of glasses…
If you were offered a potion that could make all your wildest dreams come true, but at the end of an hour you’d die, would you take it?