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Frosty face. Polished obsidian eyes. Blackbird-winged hair, glossy with oil.
“Don’t toy with me.”
I wasn’t.
Punches, burns, vicious kicks to ankles – I suffer them all.
My nose mashed on the window. Outside, placards held aloft. I know what’s on them. Vote for Gilmour. That benign smile.
Don’t believe him, I silently scream. Know what he does to me up here in this skyscraper he built with your money. All this glass, but you don’t see me.
One day I’ll jump. You’ll see me then, head spread across the pavement, bright red blood glistening in the summer sunshine.

3 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt almost 3 years ago

    Wow Julie, this is powerful stuff. Don't jump!

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn almost 3 years ago

    A powerful indictment of what goes on behind closed doors, the abuse of power and (sadly) violence against women. Excellent and hard-hitting drabble Julie and I particularly liked the colourful vivid image you finish with.

  • avatar

    Julie almost 3 years ago

    Thank you Neville and Drew :)

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