This is my contribution—late—to the Carrot Ranch Literary Community blog challenge. As always, it’s 99 words, no more no less. The challenge is to write an escape. I’m trying to condense my novel-in-progress into 99 words. Let’s see how it goes.
She sat, shredding tissue in her lap, waiting for a counselor. Once he’d passed out, she’d tied her husband, spread-eagled, to their four-poster bed using two pairs of thigh-hi nylons. Then she beat him with his own belt—the buckle end. Bruises and abrasions on her own body still throbbed. The old ones made her skin a rainbow. He was a lawyer. Every time she’d tried to leave, he’d found a way to block her. If she could make them believe she was a danger to him, maybe they would check her in and save her life—and his.
