A Black Feather, A poison pen...

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the devil may care

You ever seen nature show footage of an angry octopus changing colors shifting from black to red and back again, spots dappling its surface.

co-worker of mine came in today with her face showing tell-tale bruises. No-one here who saw her face believes that age-old cover-story of falling down the steps.

I don't know her all that terribly well, i trained her when she started here... sometimes we joke around every now and then. When she brings her little boy to the office every few months for the last hour or so of an afternoon he gravitates to me as if i was his big brother or something and shows me his affection by telling me "you're funny!" and kicking me in the shin as hard as he can before turning to run so that i will chase him through the cubicle mazeand laugh like a little maniac when i catch him.

Yeah, i don't know her terribly well, but well enough to know that there's no way in hell she deserved to catch that sort of a pounding.

One of the bosses took her somewhere to get checked out so i haven't had a chance to ask (though i imagine she'll decline) for the opportunity to discourage further bruisings.

Seeing her beat up like that has definitely put this day in a darker frame. seething... i don't know the guy who did this... haven't met him...don't want to unless it's in a small locked room with me holding the keys

i'd like to see how he likes it to be at someone else's mercy in a storm.

God, i can't stand this...whoever he is, he's out of my reach, and worse to know that in all likelihood his safety is taken behind the skirts of the one he beat.

Cops just showed up...hopefully there will be a restraining orer involved...and hopefully that will be enough.

It's something i can't and won't abide... even in the deepest pits of my own rage i would sooner break my own bones than ever raise a hand to a woman again

Yes, i was guilty once...and ONLY once...One night a few months before that bastard Ripper and i had our little incident i showed up at the home of Amanda and her "husband" and she greeted me at the door with a laoded .45 in my face...seeing her wobble a bit and figuring she was probably a little high, my first thought was of the Colt in my face, so i caught the top of the slide with my left hand, twisting it out of her grip and decked her with my right...she thought it was funny even after she sobered up because she was insanely kinky and figured she could pass it off as one of her more dire S&M stories... but the bruise on her face is something i can't live down. panic or no, i should have just taken the gun away...combine that with my innate intolerance of situations like this morning...

almost funny how much this boiling black hate tastes just like warm, green bile...though i'd trade it for a taste of blood right about now, to be honest.