malicious

he calls her some other things, too, and then hurls her belongings into the front yard as she drunkenly stumbles, spilling cheap beer on herself and laughing hysterically, yelling "oh! oh baby! you're too kind!" and falling to her knees on the damp front walk, sunglasses on in full darkness, bare knees out in 30 degree weather. to her left and right, the rose bushes have long since gone dormant and look sad, barren, dead. she stands, a gentle, slushy snow beginning to fall and soak her belongings. her knees bleed but she feels no pain, no cold. just joy.