The small kitchen knife was not deep in, but had made its way down the entire length of my forearm, opening quite a nasty cut. And still she wouldn't let go. And still I didn't try to shake her off. I simply could not move, would not move. It isn't that I was paralyzed as much as I couldn't process what was happening. I just couldn't believe my eyes.
No argument had preceded. There hadn't been a heated fight, no yelling, no sign or attempt of physical violence until the sticking of the knife. Which wasn't really what happened either, that would have implied her using some force over me. She didn't. She just grabbed my left arm by the wrist with one hand and started pressing the knife she was holding with the other into my skin. Not a word was spoken.
I always enjoyed cooking dinner together, in harmony and almost rhythmically. We had been silently doing just that. I was starting the roux and I came over to her to get the onion she was chopping.
She looked up from her cutting plate, candidly. Opened her mouth as if to say something but said nothing and closed it. Her eyes were still fixed on mine when she finally let go of me, with a curious expression on her face, as if carrying out an experiment. She didn't wait for the result, however, -or perhaps she already had it- as she just put the knife down and walked out of the kitchen.
Bewildered, I stood frozen in the middle of the room. I heard the sound of a set of keys being dropped on the floor and the main door, closing.
No argument had preceded. There hadn't been a heated fight, no yelling, no sign or attempt of physical violence until the sticking of the knife. Which wasn't really what happened either, that would have implied her using some force over me. She didn't. She just grabbed my left arm by the wrist with one hand and started pressing the knife she was holding with the other into my skin. Not a word was spoken.
I always enjoyed cooking dinner together, in harmony and almost rhythmically. We had been silently doing just that. I was starting the roux and I came over to her to get the onion she was chopping.
She looked up from her cutting plate, candidly. Opened her mouth as if to say something but said nothing and closed it. Her eyes were still fixed on mine when she finally let go of me, with a curious expression on her face, as if carrying out an experiment. She didn't wait for the result, however, -or perhaps she already had it- as she just put the knife down and walked out of the kitchen.
Bewildered, I stood frozen in the middle of the room. I heard the sound of a set of keys being dropped on the floor and the main door, closing.
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