“She tied you to a kitchen chair,
she broke your thrown and she cut your hair,
and from your lips she drew the hallelujah.”
Their eyes locked. This is the moment where the heart breaks. This is the moment where honesty equals love, and we do what we do with naked abandon, because we’re caught. We’re caught as we fall and we’re seen for what we are, and no amount of righteous judgment can stop us from being naked in the face of the unconditional. So she squeezed her fingers together and felt the dull scissors cut a lock of his hair and heard the silent slide of it gracing the floor. He felt his strength ebb away, and his chance for vengeance slide away with it.
There was no breath. There was no movement. She looked into his calm and knowing eyes and the scissors slid from her fingers, their rust covered blades clamored on the floor, and he leaned forward against the ropes and kissed her.
In the end she let him go, but he did not run. He took a slice of Wonderbread from the cupboard and picked up the dull scissors from the kitchen floor. He munched lazily on his snack as he placed the scissors nearby her on the nightstand, and fell asleep in her lap where she silently finished the job. The next morning stayed lazy, she went to work as usual in the evening, and when she came home he was gone. They had taken him as planned: a white envelope with money and a note remained as proof.
But even for weeks afterward, her victory never tasted sweet.
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