“Ow,” I mumbled.
“Does that hurt, pretty baby?” I stared up out of one eye at the woman above me. Perfect lipstick and hair, nails still shimmering in the light of night, and brandishing a tire iron she had just used on my ribs.
“Only a little, Cornelia,” I managed. “I guess you aren’t what you used to be.”
“Errrngh!”
I’m not very smart…sometimes. That’s the idea that flowed through my head as my body rolled along behind it. The pavement was cold on my face. I smiled and my lip stung from the cracks in it. “Broke a heel,” I said. “Should have stuck with the iron.”
She stalked toward me. It’s amazing how beautiful people can look so hideous when evil twisted them from the inside. As for me on the asphalt . . . if it had just been Cornelia things would have been fine, but she…
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Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 