May 7th, 2010. The sun looked like a bright red, skinned knee. But, it was quiet and cool outside. I've never seen the sky look so vulnerable; like it had just been shot. Karen flipped a breakfast patty and broke my early morning complacency.
"That was a fantastic battle last night. But it left my stomach in knots. Don't overcook that sausage. I won't eat it." I finished.
Karen shot me a look and said, "You were out too late. I had a meeting with Pete. You didn't go to work yesterday."
She was digging for something. Anything I said right now would just hurt her, so I took it out on Pete instead.
"Pete? Pete's an idiot. Pete doesn't even know how to drive." I shot back.
Karen didn't have anything to say. She spit on my breakfast, grabbed her grubby, teddy bear, Pete, from the table and ran out through the kitchen door screaming, "Mommmmmmmmmmmyyy!!!"
When I finished my sausage, Big Karen finally crept downstairs. I was already fluent with a believable alibi. "She threatened to kill herself again." I cried. "She says she wants a baby brother. She said she wants you to teach her how to be a good mother. I told her NO, and she spit on my breakfast! I think she might have wet the bed again, Karen."
She didn't seem to hear anything I said. Karen has ears like a safe-cracker. She hears everything. She was dressed for work, but it was Saturday. I knew it was Saturday. Even the paper said it was Saturday. She picked up the paper.
"It's Saturday." she said.
"She's suicidal, Karen!" I tried.
"Dammit!" she said. "I'm going back to bed.
Who won last night?" I won, I was thinking.
"Traffic Town. 6-5." I said.
W is for Counterbalanced Attack.
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