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Flick Of His Wrist

With the flick of his wrist he silenced the radio on an endless road trip to Vegas, done so with contempt and spite. 

I simply asked for some silence to sleep.

With the flick of his wrist he demanded a plate for some soon to be crisp and chewy Christmas porkchops.

I couldn't hop up soon enough to bring him that plate. In that moment I felt so much hate.

The next morning I woke to more words of hate. 

"Merry Fucking Christmas..."

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