Too Old for This

by Samantha Downing

I don’t think about breaking his legs, just his two friends’. It’s the little things that get me through the day.

Instead, I felt better. For a while, anyway. I didn’t realize how much anger I had until it was gone.

I’m too old for all that. Panic is bad for my heart.

I would love to be an amoeba in Tula’s brain right now. So many theories to ponder.

But I refused to let that man determine how I would live my life. Instead, I regrouped.

I don’t ask Norma what kind of tea she wants. She gets chamomile. No caffeine for her.

That’s the thing about anger. It doesn’t just sit around, doing nothing inside of you. Anger has to go somewhere.

I sink back in my chair, sighing with defeat. “Then go ahead. Stop teasing me and shoot.” He does.

“You bitch.” I smile. Junior said that’s what his father always called me. I prefer to think of myself as highly resourceful, rather than a bitch. And smarter than Burke.

No more words for him. Burke has had more than enough years to say everything he wants.