by Angela C. Orlando
The attack begins at 4:38 p..m. She runs to the bathroom in a
blind panic. She slams the door shut and falls to the floor.
Hot tears begin streaming down her face. She pulls at her hair,
wishing instead that she could rip out her soul. Her mouth
opens in a terrifying grimace of pain. No sound escapes her
throat -- Not a whimper nor a cry. She fights unsuccessfully for
control, as her body is wracked with silent screams.
It ends as abruptly as it started. She stands, pats down her
clothing and moves to the sink. She washes her face and fixes
her hair, erasing all signs of the unpleasant episode. She
walks with confidence into the kitchen and greets her husband.
"Hi honey," she says with a smile. "Dinner will be ready in half
an hour."
March 2011
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