Once, a man hit me; he struck me across the face. My nose bled, as well as my upper lip, which was punctured by my own teeth from the force of that slap.
I was in my early twenties when the incident happened. Afterwards, I swore that no man would ever hit me again…and I had my revenge.
Fifteen years later, I was in a local grocery store. While trying to figure out which laundry soap to buy, I saw him. Our eyes met, and he genuinely seemed terrified. His abrupt turn down the next aisle made me chuckle. He was still in a wheelchair.