Setting about my day with my new plan in tow was slightly more difficult than I had originally imagined, as I glanced down at the now-cracked screen of my cell phone.  I paused for a moment, one foot planted firmly in a pile of gray slush, the other still on the sidewalk, and laughed uneasily at his latest text message, which was clearly intended for her and not me.

Heading home now…we don’t have money for karaoke tonight, do we?

Behind me (and unseen, fortunately, to the public), The Beast rose up again, placing two overly-firm hands on my shoulders and trying to rouse me to reaction. He did it on purpose, it muttered in my ear, just to get to you.

The Beast smiled coyly as the tension slowly crept up my neck and my grip tightened on the cell phone.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and sucker-punched.

A whimper of shock and shame, followed by fleeting footsteps.  The Beast wasn’t going to win this time.

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