The bra's underwire popped like exploding candy.
Paz hugged herself, avoided pumping fists, bearded pits, and tried to feel empowered, not cavemannish.
Before I get hate mail, or worse, accused of being an enemy of my own sex, let me say that the message of my story is not anti-feminist. Just anti-radical feminists.
Why is becoming hardened and wild and rude to the opposite gender becoming more powerful? Why do men-eaters feel they've not turned into the monsters they feel are dominating them?
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