1:
If she admitted it, resentment was more dangerous than hatred - the former tucks itself away in the recess of your soul, much like a dormant volcano.
She smiled at a passing acquaintance. It was more like a reluctant stretch of the lips, but the other person didn't seem to realise.
Of course not, she thought scornfully. And as if he would give a fuck if he did.
She continued walking, counting the tiles in her head to block everything else out.
2:
She thought that her friend was rather quiet today. Possibly worrying about nothing important which will soon be unburdened on her. A silver of resentment crept into that thought.
Somebody walked past them and smiled at them.
For fuck, she scowled internally.
Her friend too, smiled back.
Of course, she thought scathingly. So popular.
They continued walking in the seemingly companionable silence.
***
