He came toward me, a gun in his hand. Tatoos littered his fleshy arms that bulged with anger. Anger towards me.  The concrete wall chafed my back. I was trapped. His lips drooled blood mixed with saliva.  I had kicked him in the mouth when he grabbed at my blouse. Knee kick, step back, high kick connect.  I could still feel the painful stretch in my right hip from that round house I landed.  It has been years since I…

Read More Read More