Angry Woman

She stood, tall as temper, face looking like a monster. Her eyes sparkled with blood as if coming through a flood. She bared four black canines, passing across dreaded signs. The face glowed, an ebony her heart throbbed with agony. She soon let the cutters part, aired pent-up brewing heart. While the thunder yet pealed fresh layers of anger peeled letting a black demon loose; slimy dark fluid began to ooze. Tried my best to douse the fire, but already a burst tyre. She glared at me and heeled, pointing a finger, she squealed. I looked, dusk was homing fast. As Annie growled, she gassed, darted to the gate and fled; doves hushed in their shed. Yet to see a bitter barker: A she shorter than temper.