Small Brutalities
Across the Knee
Breaking kindling over a knee. The dry crack, the sting through the trouser, the split length dropped in the box.
Small Brutalities
Small Brutalities
An Inch Past the Blue
Cutting the mold off a block of cheddar. The confident inch taken past the blue, the salvaged centre, the judgment about what is still food.
Small Brutalities
The Last Snip
Cutting the yarn to finish a piece. Kitchen scissors, one snip, the deliberate severing that ends it.
Small Brutalities
Black Nail, No Window
Trimming the dog's nails at the kitchen floor. The held paw, the guess, the three crescents left against the baseboard.
Small Brutalities
Down to Crumbs
Taking apart a loaf that didn't rise. Tearing the dense bread down for crumbs and the birds. Dismantling what didn't work into something that will.
Small Brutalities
The First Hill
Pulling the first potato plant of the season. The yank, the soil breaking open, the buried crop hauled into the light.
Small Brutalities
Unpicking the Seam
Pulling out a seam with a seam ripper. The little pops, the thread lifted free, undoing careful work on purpose to do it again right.
Small Brutalities
The Night's Breath
Scraping frost off the inside of a window. The fingernail, the curl of ice, the water that follows.
Small Brutalities
A Lap Full of Green
Snapping beans over a bowl. The brittle break, the string that mostly wasn't there anymore, the ends flicked away one at a time.
Small Brutalities
Which Ones Stay
Thinning the carrot row. Pulling the healthy extras so the rest can swell, fingers in the dirt, the pulled ones limp in a pile.