My dominating mother loves her antique collection, more than her family. She remains emotionally unavailable to us, lost in history and those inanimate objects. I was nothing more than a slave or puppet for her.
She humiliated me again today, and I couldn’t resist, just could not. The piece that I threw on the floor was shattered into tiny bits, a few of them piercing my skin. The red spurts of blood give me a sense of control. I can act on my will. The pain is exquisite.
(88 words)
Creative Experiments and More 
well done Reena! You’ve written an excellent piece and captured the essence of the line and original image – and I like how you’ve used a new image and created the perfect balance between tension and explosion, with a release that offers a stepping into one’s power. Bittersweet but delicious nonetheless.
thanks for playing the Sunday Writing prompt this week 🙂
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Thank you for the detailed comment! Much appreciated!
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