“Right,”
I said, as I slammed the kitchen door closed behind me. “I don't
know what I'm looking for,” I continued, speaking to myself, “But
I'm sure I'll know it when I see it.”
I
opened a cupboard door and quickly glanced inside. A box of
Cup'a'Soups, a bag of sugar and a big bag of pasta looked back at me.
“Nope,” I said, slamming the door shut.
Next
I pulled open a drawer. Tea towels. “No, again,” I said, and
slammed that shut too. After that I was opening and slamming
cupboards and doors, paying scant attention to their contents.
To
be honest, I didn't really know what I was doing. I just felt that I
had so much energy that had bottled itself up inside me, coupled with
the frustration of feeling so powerless and out of control. Things
were happening to us, to our family, to our house. I think I just
needed to let some of that energy out.
So
I did, until my eyes landed on the bread knife sat in the rack.
