I’ve Had Better Days

She held the knife just so. There is such a thing as a practiced casualness and then there is the casualness that is earned. There, a oneness that cannot be faked.

Guess which one I find more frightening. Guess which one she had.

She turned the blade back and forth, watching the light play against its sheen. She glanced up at me. "It seems we have a lot to talk about," she said.

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