As she hides in this cold, damp closet,
she hears his footsteps in the hallway.
Holding her breath,
she prays that he won’t find her.
Black and blue and broken,
with tear stained cheeks,
she hears him stop,
pause,
and walk on by.
As she begins to cry once again,
she hears his old Ford pickup rattle down the driveway.
He must be out of beer.
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