Grabbing the barstool with one hand,
She launched it towards the window,
Knowing shattering glass would silence and cease his assault.
lazysusan-like on the floor, feet away from its target.
“Did that feel good?” he sneered.
“No,” she calmly replied, “But this will.”
She picked up the second stool, and let it fly.
I have been known to have a temper, although I think I do a pretty darn good job of keeping it in check. But this was one of my more “inspired” outbursts:
Voldemort and I were having an argument. Now, being one of six children, I know how to argue: you get your turn to say whatever you want, I don’t interrupt. And then, it’s my turn. Of course, it was my turn, and he kept interrupting, shutting me down, telling me I was wrong, etc. And then he would keep going – like it was his turn. WTF!?!?!?!? Suddenly, the quiet rage descended upon me, and I could see clearly the path to take. The vision showed that if I threw the heavy iron barstool through the window, he would be so startled that he would stop yelling and it would be my turn.
Well, it really was very logical in that quiet rage moment.