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Undo the strings attaching me to myself
This journal doesn't follow a set thing. I write about whatever whenever. Want me to discuss something, send me a PM and I will write about it in here.
-Bored so here's a story I came up with-
I took her anger quietly, just like she showed it. No words were being said. The only sound filling the room was the sloshing of dishwater and the occasional clatter of a dish connecting with another. The most common sound was the tossing and landing. While she washed the silverware with her bare hands, she would toss it into the other side of the sink for me to rinse. I would hear it before it even made impact....I'd listened to this many times before. The knives were included as a tossing object; bearly missing my hand as I casually dried the utensils with my rag.

Soon, though she beame impatient to my slow pace and started to rinse the plates that lay in the sink. I cringed slightly, knowing what was to come and getting more and more irritated with her. As she carelessly, and without a bother, set the plates on the towel with the dry dishes, I just about lost it. I gripped the cup that she set on what I was just about to dry and slammed it down into the corner of the counter and huffed out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

...She stopped. All of her movement came to an abrupt end as she stared at me with fury in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking. How dare she! How dare she become irritated with me when I just had a fight with him? But I didn't bother with the apologies any longer, they never did seem to help.

"I cannot dry dishes with other dishes on top of them. I have this organized so would you just wait a minute?" There was an edge to my voice and she continued to stand there and stare. From the other side of the room {i]she started in on what had nothing to do with her.

"I don't see why it has to be organized." In my head it dripped out of her mouth like ooze. Not a burning ooze but the kind that you just stare at for a minute and think What is the point to this being here on earth? It has intervened with what should not be messed with. I ignored her and continued my stare down with the washer.

"Well apparently it does and I'm being a b***h to her." The woman growled and threw the dishrag into the sink and turned to grab the frozen food and put it in the microwave to defrost. I just rolled my eyes and continued with my slightly sluggish drying, not really caring what was said any longer.

Ah the stories I could tell about her. The things that the world should know...but I don't because the woman with the anger, the one who makes my blood boil, is my one and only mother.

(True story, happened earlier this night.)





 
 
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