Friday 20 January 2012

the razor's edge

She said she wouldn't. She had thought it over. Had tried to understand. But none of it made sense to her. He didn't like it. He wasn't used to it. Would never have expected it. He rearranged a few pens. Crossed his knees. And turned to the window. She didn't budge. Her heart beating. Her hands moist. Her stomach cold. She had questioned authority. She was challenging her past. The mould. That's where he wants her. That's where he needs her. With the others. A pawn. Approachable. Manageable. Shiftable. She said nothing. She felt it coming. “If you don't do as I...” She told him to save his breath. She told him she had had enough. She said she was gone. And she turned to the door. She turned to her future. The one that she needed. The one that says no.