Honey Jean

"Honey Jean didn’t know what hit her. She didn’t know if it was a fist, a rock or even a wayward newspaper thrown by a cock eyed paper boy. She only knew that she was sprawled out on the ground with her dress up over her head and one leg was bent behind her at a precarious angle. She thought she heard the echo of bitter laughter trailing away in the distance. She lay still, afraid to move, afraid to do more damage to her body than had already been done. She gasped for the breath that had been knocked from her lungs when she hit the concrete."