Imogen had an ugly crying face.
Her crying was both ferocious and noisy. She blinked crocodiles tears from bloodshot eyes, her thick lashes stuck together in clumps as if she had been swimming. The tears made wet tracks down her face and dripped from her wobbling chin. Clear watery snot streaked from her flaring nostrils down her red mottled skin to her open quivering lips. Her hands open and closed, rhythmically clenching as if there could be some violent solution to her pain if only she could find it.
It was hysterical and it took everything in me not to laugh out loud in her face as I let her get her anger out about the small hickey she had spotted on my neck the other day. I had tuned her out for most of it, only tuning her back when she would yell my name or stuttered over her words from talking too fast.
