I shifted, keeping my arms glued to my side. If I stood just so, you couldn’t see the bruises…or couldn’t see that they were shaped like hands, at least. I’d considered wearing long sleeves, but it was almost ninety out, and that was a little bit too stereotypical Battered Woman for me. You know, they wear the sleeves and makeup, insist that it won’t happen again, that he didn’t mean it. With Devon it won’t, though, because he really didn’t.1
I stepped up to the counter, flashing the clerk a smile.2
”Hello, I’d like to apply for a marriage contract?”3
Author notes
A "dribble" for a contest.
A contest entry
- Drabbles by trekkergirl.
200 points, ended September 2, 27 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I like it, it's real, abuse happens all the time and people always say that 'he didn't mean it'. You touched a big subject, and I like that, great job =DD
-Dani -
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Thanks
I try.
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Thats cute a dribble for a contest. I like that. This is a serious drabble... abuse is never good. And this happens all the time. Thanks for the contest entry. It's a good write about a serious subject.




