Two streets away, Jay broke into a run. A short sprint, but he relished the movement. He stopped when his lungs grew ragged. Chest hitching, sniffing to clear his nose, swallowing to clear his throat, he wiped over his face, furious for crying. Damn the man! Damn him to hell!
Jay kicked an empty can into the road. The metallic clank, hollow plink, plink, plonk, noises sounded too loud, fracturing the grey evening. Suitably, the sky appeared heavy with impending rain. The sharp wind made people hurry along and no one seemed to notice his tears.
Jay wanted to hit something, and he never felt like that. Not only did his stature make him shy away from violence, brutality didn’t sit well with his nature. Yet he couldn’t dispute his clenched hand, the nails digging into his palms. He longed to
