"I'm not insensitive," I said. "I know what it's like to lose someone. But this isn't the place to talk about it. If you have anything more to say ..." I was about to tell her to call me at home, but instead I ended up blurting out, " . . . or perhaps you'd like me to sob hysterically and chase you with a kitchen knife?" I admit that it was rather cold-blooded of me. She gave me an evil scowl and said in a chilly voice, "I've said all I had to say. Excuse me." Those were her parting words. With the click, click of her little beige pumps, she turned and walked to the door. Then, slamming it with a bang, she was gone.
It was over, leaving behind the bitter aftertaste of a confrontation in which nothing was gained.
kitchen; banana yoshimoto
It was over, leaving behind the bitter aftertaste of a confrontation in which nothing was gained.