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Routine
He lurches around the house like a bear
out of hibernation.
The stench of whiskey drifting through the radiators,
with the tiled floor freezing the palms of my feet.
I was too frozen to remember the lock the door.
He rattles the doorknob,
the door trembling with me
as I try to fit myself behind the toilet
like when I was little.
But I've grown too big to hide
yet I still try- it's our routine.
The door slams open
and he's still in his Armani suit,
lunging at me with a stream of curses.
Like a good little girl, I brace myself for the impact of his fists
as the grandfather clock strikes at midnight,
and pray for him to see his child instead of a stress ball.
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Just a prompt from English class. We were supposed to write about a monster, so I took another approach!
I wish I could use another picture though :(