She screamed. He’d picked her for a non-screamer. He hated screamers. That’s why his procedure of selection was so elaborate. He didn’t just pick the first pretty girl he saw. No, it took time, patience, balancing several factors and if he couldn’t find one who met all his standards, then he’d go home alone. This actually happened more often lately. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t been careful enough.
The noise was so gut-wrenching he had to end it. He bent down, her nails digging further into the skin of his back. His lips on hers. The silence was deafening.
This post is an entry in the 100 words for grownups challenge. This week (#66)’s prompt was: …the silence was deafening…