Passing Around The Chainsaw
In our first department meeting in the cusp of the new school year, when I pass around the chainsaw to see who handles it well, you grin like a raptor and touch the grisly chain and lick the oil from your fingertips. Ladylike in delicacy, murderous in substance, your expression fouls the room. The others leave, cursing me for introducing this weapon to the agenda. You hum a little mourning […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 