[the second twist of the knife. and a third in quick succession.
it's all Martin can do to swallow down the lump forming in his throat and keep talking to her like nothing's wrong. sitting and telling her about what little in his current life is safe to talk about. asking about her. does she have any new complaints about the nurses?
from outside, his voice is quiet and relatively even, while her slowly escalates in volume and ferocity. she doesn't care, she doesn't want to hear any of it. nothing new.
the crash and yelp of pain is, though.
Martin is bent over double in the visitor's chair, broken pieces of vase and sunflowers littering the floor. his mother is sitting up as much as she's able, chest heaving with the effort and her eyes burning with hatred.]
no subject
it's all Martin can do to swallow down the lump forming in his throat and keep talking to her like nothing's wrong. sitting and telling her about what little in his current life is safe to talk about. asking about her. does she have any new complaints about the nurses?
from outside, his voice is quiet and relatively even, while her slowly escalates in volume and ferocity. she doesn't care, she doesn't want to hear any of it. nothing new.
the crash and yelp of pain is, though.
Martin is bent over double in the visitor's chair, broken pieces of vase and sunflowers littering the floor. his mother is sitting up as much as she's able, chest heaving with the effort and her eyes burning with hatred.]