Do not forget

Today my dear husband screamed at me.... Over and over again. His voice lingers in my memory and the momentous scene replays repeatedly like a broken cassette player. I don't remember the words exchanged really but the face I can literally paint on canvas. His face was a face that was shaken up and infuriated with pride hurt like a lion reclaiming his throne... a face that was totally incapable of containment... His eyes were sharp and wide but racing to find a point to settle.. And beneath them reflected a fury that was boiling and smoking of hatred and uncontrollable wrath. That's it... It was uncontrollable... Too late was it to undo or reverse for the dancing flames grew into outright brush fire.  and consequently his mouth followed its orders. His soft lips were now robustly maneuvering to render  the words into a sort of communication that was taunting the two of us. His voice was the soundtrack... Like an unending abrasive classical music, it was thunderous and purposeful. lightening bolts, you might called them, high and powerful, that it produced voice slips acquired in male puberty. 

I hope you're happy. No sarcasm intended.