Turn Around

You can feel his stare on the back of your neck.

He’s not in the same room as you, he’s not even inside the house. But you know with full certainty that if you turn from the kitchen counter away from the overripe tomatoes you are chopping and towards the full glass doors that form the only barrier between you and him, he will be there, watching. His eyes will flit from your face, down to the sharp knife in your hand as the tomato juice drips from its point, pooling and splashing onto the ...