The words come out like a sudden knife and before I can stop them, they flash by and bring blood. They are quick and ugly. But they have beauty in that, too. I spend the next hours and days on the see-saw of defense and mea-culpa. I have no idea where they come from. They were as sudden as a storm on the plain. Still, someone inside me wanted them out. Why? Who is this person? If I never have meet them, how will I know when they will show up again. I can apologize, but I cannot say it will never happen again.
I did not even know it would happen when it did.
