She strangles me. For a small woman she is quite powerful. Her fingers dig deeper into my Adam’s apple. I’m thinking she’ll tear the damn thing off. At last I free her arms from around my neck and twist them behind her back.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me!”
“That’s the idea,” I say, twisting harder. “Now are you going to lay off me, or do I have to break this arm of yours? Hmm?”
“Okay,” she says.
“Promise?”
“Y — yes, I promise!”
“Good. Because all things being equal, I really don’t care to break people’s arms, not if I don’t have to, understand?”
She nods.
“I’m going to let go now. Kindly keep your hands off me. All right?”
I let go. She steps back and stands there, in the kitchen area with her jaw hanging, looking at me. The kettle whistles.
“Who are you?” she says.
I switch off the
