I shrieked at him, pounding his desk with my tightly clenched fist. I was trying to make a point. I felt entitled to my sense of outrage, and wanted him to know. It was quite an exclamation mark.
Did I mention he was my boss? I screamed at my boss. AND pounded his desk.
What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t.
When five o’clock rolled around, I rushed out the door, eager to be in the peace and quiet of my home.
A few minutes after pulling onto the highway, my tire started to scream.
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