Dangerous Compassions

domestic violence

Last night I was up late writing and heard a sound outside that gave me a chill. I went through “What’s wrong with that animal?” to “Oh my god, that’s a kid” to “Oh my god, that’s an adult.” Just the most bone-chilling howl, then a slamming door and screaming shouts. I froze and kept listening. I stared at Erik, whose sitting was interupted. It’s the moment where you’re moving toward the phone to call the cops and say something to yourself like, “Okay, one more howl and that’s it.”

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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