The following is a featured 100-word story from the June Writing Challenge.
I tug on my hair, almost hard enough to rip it from my scalp. That’s not the best thing, not with him already staring at me like I’m out of my mind. Tears stream from my eyes, dragging down black eye makeup too. The walls of our living room are closing in on us, pushing us together; he’s hugging me, just that bit too tight, like a corset crushing a woman’s ribs. I punch weakly at his chest, wanting to be released, but wanting to curl up and hide in his chest. I know my sobs are mellifluous to him.