A slapping sound, less loud than thunder, but no less sharp. The crack of soft skin wronged against stubbled skin impenitent. Wronged, righteous, regardless…all gone in that moment. The vacuum caused by that flash of anger only holding out the raging forces of emotion for so long, primal needing to hate. A collapse, a singularity singularly pitiful: trust, love, marriage…her on the floor, him out the door.