Hater

affected both of their coordination. She gasped with sudden pleasure as his full length finally disappeared inside her.
    'I'll give it to you, you dirty slut,' he promised as he forced himself deeper still. She looked up to the sky and bit her lip, trying not to make any noise but at the same time desperate to scream out loud.
    'Harder,' she hissed.
    He began to thrust his body against hers, forcing her back against the wall again and again.
    'Hard enough for you?' he asked, staring deep into her wide grey eyes.
    'Just fuck me,' she gasped between thrusts.
    'Hard enough?' he hissed again through clenched teeth.
    Then she stopped.
    She let go of him.
    'What's the matter?' he asked, concerned. 'Did I hurt you? What did I do?'
    The expression on her face changed from pleasure to fear in an instant. She pushed him off and backed away from him, pulling her skirt down and tripping back across the alley.
    'What's going on?' he asked again. 'What's the matter with you?'
    She didn't answer. She kept moving away, shuffling deeper into the shadows. He continued to move towards her. She tried to speak but she couldn't. 'Don't…' was all she could mumble.
    'What the fucking hell's going on?' he demanded. 'You're mental, you are. One minute you're all over me, now you're pushing me away. Is this how you get your kicks? You're a fucking prick-teaser. You're a dirty fucking bitch.'
    Still staggering backwards her foot kicked against the edge of a plastic crate filled with empty glass bottles. She instinctively leant down, picked up one of the bottles by its neck and smashed it against the brick wall behind her.
    His reactions dulled by drink, Newbury stood and watched her.
    'Now what are you doing? You're fucking crazy, you are. What the fucking hell do you think you're doing? I'm not…'
    He didn't finish his sentence. She ran at him and shoved the broken bottle deep into his stomach. It sliced through his cotton shirt and plunged into his flesh. She pulled the bottle out and then shoved it into him again, this time lower, the jagged edge almost severing the bottom third of his still exposed but now completely flaccid penis. Then a third strike as she sunk the razor-sharp glass into his neck.
    She turned and ran and was out of the alley before he'd hit the ground.
    There were more of them out there, thousands more.
    She had to keep running.

10

    Sometimes the thought of work is worse than the reality. All things considered, today at the office was just about bearable. After everything I'd seen and heard over the weekend I'd expected to have to fight my way into work through crowds of people battling with each other on the streets. Apart from a few broken windows and some other slight damage everything looked and felt disappointingly normal. The city centre was quiet for a Monday and the office was too.
    I'm glad to be home. I can see the apartment block at the end of the road now. As usual there are lights on in the diagonally opposite corners of the building - our flat and the other occupied flat upstairs. As I get closer I can see shadows moving around behind our curtains. The kids are running around in the living room. No doubt they'll have been playing up all evening and I'll get it in the neck from Liz again.
    We shouldn't be living in a place like this I think as I walk up the overgrown pathway to the door. I know I'm a lazy sod and I should work harder but it's not easy. I do my best, it's just that it doesn't seem to be enough. I need a kick up the backside from time to time. But if every day could be like today, I decide as I pull open the creaking front door, then maybe things might work out. Today it actually felt like the effort I'd put in had been worthwhile. I didn't have any screaming members of the public to deal with and I even managed to have a laugh with Tina Murray. Today, for once, I didn't feel as if I was pulling in the opposite direction to everyone else. The plans that Lizzie and I have been making for years to move to a bigger house, change the car and generally improve our standard of living seem a little more realistic and possible than they did when I left the flat this morning. Still a long way off, mind, but possible.
    I shuffle though the gloom of the lobby and open the door to the flat. I step inside and the warmth of our home makes me realise just how cold it is outside tonight.
    'I'm back,' I shout as I take off my coat and shoes. It's unusually quiet in here. I can hear the TV and the children