Five
she questions, pretending not to understand.
“Get out!” he commands furiously, pointing at the door.
Her black, silky hair swirls over her shoulders. The plunging neckline of her prominent bust is damp with sweat. She frowns, glaring bitterly at me.
She radiates rage; envy courses through her entire body.
Sam remains still, frozen, but there’s something in his stance: contained tension, as if a force beyond human is struggling to emerge. After the door slams and the scene unfolds, he just exhales and continues working.