Oh wait, there it is, the rage I
couldn’t find the other
night, growling into my pillow, crying
frustration, pain, betrayal but not
rage. The rage was in absentia. Not now.
Here, wishing dead someone who has
hurt my children, someone who physically
attacked my older daughter, ripped her shawl
off of her in the Ladies room, with
an accomplice and then told her that she looks
like a hooker, like streetwalker, like a prostitute
like a whore. Same someone who has hurt both of my
grown sons. Is it okay to wish her dead?
Is it normal? These are not the same
question.