Tagged

This is a tardy response to Kaashyapeya's tag.
Semblance of a story in 55 words.


He said I was beautiful. I believed him.
Before the lies over late dinners. Over complicated entrees. Steaming soup.

And the dinners grew cold as I waited. Soups were seasoned with hatred. Drizzled with disgust.

And now I can bear to look at myself.
Black eyes. Red blood. Blue bruises.
I really am beautiful sometimes.


(I'm not technically tagging anyone because mine is a sleepy little blog. But if anyone's reading this and wants to precis-write, consider yourself tagged.)