His smile widened, as if he could see me. ‘Don’t be shy, precious. I’m not going to hurt you.. much.’ My gaze shot about, looking for anything to help me. I saw a broken piece of pipe on the ground before him. I knew it would be a risk, but I was a sitting duck without it. With a quick second’s thought I dove out of my hiding spot, flying for the pipe. He seemed to anticipate my move and kicked the pipe back, grabbing my sweater and forcing me, on my back, on the ground. He placed one hand around my neck, the other holding the knife above me. A sadistic grin lit his face as he murmured in my ear. ‘Hello there, baby doll. Time for the party to begin.’ With a hiss I spit in his face, my hand reaching for the pipe.. it seemed only inches from my fingers. I could feel them brush the cool metal. The man roared at me, hatred pouring from his dark eyes as he lifted the knife. My fingers slipped around the metal and I lifted it just as the knife plunged into my chest. Amidst the sounds of. There was a stiffness to her, a formality that I had not noticed before. Ken began drinking more heavily and behaving more rudely in front of his wife. One day when we were alone he confided that they were having problems. Yumi was unhappy in America; she wanted more autonomy but, by his own admission, Ken was too overprotective to grant it. He characterized her demands as nagging. For a moment I was secretly afraid I would not be able to see Yumi as often, but Ken reassured me. They con- sidered my presence a welcome distraction. The frequency of my invitations increased. During that time I made excellent headway on my project, but I also rediscovered the cause for my obsession. The thought of Yumi unhappy pained me greatly and I came to realize how much I cared about her. I know this must sound ludicrous in the midst of such a sick, twisted revelation. It was just that my love for her, as impossible as it was, took a torturous, twisted route to its fulfillment just as a river that.
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