Then we imploded

Anger isn't always an outspoken emotion, but it always is a dangerous one. 

Dad's anger uncoils rapidly, in increasing degrees of  piss-tacity, like a boa constrictor disentangling itself from an oak. He stares at me slack jawed. Even the black shadow that has pooled around his feet under the flame of the bulb and stretched toward me looks incredulous. They both stay there staring, still as rock.

"Amanda? " his tone is even more flabbergasted. He wore one of those his plus sized t-shirts that smell new and look old. It has a faded picture of an isle emblemed on its chest and i can see the links of the gold chain on his neck catch the light and sparkle above the cloth's fraying collar. He never takes that necklace off, ever. He even wears it into the bathroom, when he wants to take a shower. It's gold, plus it has his and Mum's wedding bands as its pendant. Gold upon gold. 

"Amanda is that you?" . 

"Yes Daddy? Daddy welcome." I manage.