Written for this challenge – Thank you Peter
Connie looked over her shoulder as Rick eased in through the front door. If looks could kill, he’d be dead now and he knew it, but he still had to try.
She growled at him, “You got a lotta damn gall, showing up here, showing up now.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, Connie…” Rick kinda let his apology run out of steam. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Tried to look pathetic. Tried a sheepish grin.
On her part, Connie started flinging everything she could lay her hands on at him. “Are you trying to piss me off?” she screamed, “Is that what you want? Just get out. Get the fuck out.”
Rick took a step forward.
She threw a big book. It mighta been a cooking book, or it mighta been Tolstoy; she didn’t bother to check which. It did the trick though.
Rick retreated back the way he had come. He went out the front door.
Connie leaned back. She needed to get the locks changed, and as long as she was changing things, maybe she’d she should go downtown tomorrow. Change her hair.