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Karma by Karen Lethlean - Page 2

Karen Lethlean

Michelle was angered by my well-tutored ignorance. She came out into the corridor – fully clothed, even with her shoes on. Wasn’t going to credit me with a shoes-in-hand walk of shame, or, as I prefer to call it, walk of triumph. Nope, Michelle sidled up to me with rage twinkling in her perfect green eyes, and slapped me really hard in the face.

This is the point that my brain spins off to consider lots of the prism colours to do with violence against women. Is this type of attack why some men hit back?  Right at that moment I could see why those so-called tough girls, who get aggro driving, fold and cringe when some hairy chest neolith begins to shout and dribble into their windscreens.

I’m very much of the view that it’s wrong to hit a woman, or anyone really, especially if they are bigger than me; which isn’t an exclusive club. So I often had to be innovative when meting out retribution. Thankfully Michelle’s smack had awoken my creativity, I grabbed her shoulders and marched her towards the door, much the same way a bouncer would evict a drunk. That way she couldn’t punch or slap me again, and I was only using necessary strength to tell her she’d crossed a line in the sand.

As I escorted Michelle through the front door, I felt a need for revenge, thinking – she can’t slap me just because I didn’t make her come just now. Was it my fault that the porn and outdoor sex didn’t work for her? So I spat in her face. After all she had slapped me and for that, there should be consequences.

Then the front door clicked shut.

Karma by Karen Lethlean - Page 2

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