An angry outburst [short writing sample]
It was only 5:00, but the darkness visible through the window of the tiny hunting shack made it feel like night. The storm building outside, however, had nothing on the one building inside Amity’s heart. She had worked so hard these past few weeks to keep everything bottled in: the betrayal she still felt too keenly, the anger at being treated like a foolish child, and the overwhelming frustration of being supervised by someone she couldn’t stand. She was the most powerful sorcerer of her time; she was Amity fucking Grace! And she was done being jerked around. She’d show them what she was capable of, she’d show them all -starting with the pointy-eared know-it-all who was calmly staring out the window, hands clasped lightly behind her back, as if being trapped in this goddamned shack by the magical storm of the century was merely curious. As though she could sense Amity’s building rage, Corwin turned around to face her. “You’re glowing,” she said calmly. She said everything calmly. Sometimes Amity wondered if it was possible to make the elven woman display an honest emotion. It was time to find out.
“I’m glowing because I’m angry, Cor. Maybe that’s an emotion you’re not familiar with.” She spit the words out of her mouth, as sharp and biting as she could make them. “I’m glowing because I’m ready to burn this fucking shack down around us until there’s nothing left out here but blackened earth.”
“If the shack was gone, we’d probably get quite wet in the rain that’s coming” Corwin pointed out.
“Dammit, woman! Why do you always have to do that?” Amity shook with the rage boiling over inside her. Her magic, unpredictable at the best of times, felt like it was steaming off her in plumes. She stepped closer to the shorter woman, getting in her face. She saw the elf flinch slightly at the molten heat coming off her body. “Does it make you feel superior to always be balanced, frozen, emotionless? Maybe that’s why you don’t care about what’s happening. You don’t care about any of the people who are going to get hurt if we can’t fix what’s going on. You don’t love anyone. You’re probably not even capable of love.” Corwin’s fist met Amity’s mouth with a crack that was echoed by the thunder outside. “Don’t tell me what I’m capable of, Amity Grace.”
