Kelsey had always hated Kent. Kent was a skinny, chaste, and weak man. His skin was light and ashy, his hair not blonde but not quite brown. His teeth could have been more white. She hated the way he talked, all whispery. His voice, unreliable. His feelings, pushing up and making this more of a life.

Kelsey looked in the mirror and hated Kent so much it hurt. She hated him with sorrow. She hated him with Rage.

She decided to kill him.

She took a knife in her left hand.

She held out Kent's right hand, as if showing a fist full of candy, as if doing a sign-language "a."

She cut down into Kent's doughy flesh. There was little resistance.

She wanted to pair him away, his skin, his apologies.

She wanted only Kelsey's eyes to remain.