"Do you ever get angry at people?" asked Isabel, playfully dipping her finger into her Cosmopolitan.
"Yeah, sure I do," said Sarah.
"Do you hit them?"
"No," said Sarah a little too loud.
"Then what do you do with your anger?"
"I um redirect it."
"You have a place for your anger."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Right here," said Isabel, touching a spot on Sarah's chest. Pain exploded out from that point. Sarah clutched her heart with her right hand and leaned back hard. She couldn't move.
"That's a lot of anger," said Isabel.
Silent tears flowed copiously from Sarah's eyes. "Order me another gimlet," she whispered.
"Sure," said Isabel, waving to the waitress, who by now knew what to bring. "That's a dangerous place to keep your anger. It could spill out on people."
"Yeah," said Sarah, moving her mouth with difficulty, "I got to get it out of there."
"It's out, but you've got to, you know, keep flushing it."
Sarah arched her back. She could move her fingers, though they tingled painfully.
Isabel continued, "Sometimes you've just got to feel it."
"But I don't want to hit anybody."
"It'll burn itself out when it hits the air. Just let it out. Don't worry about it."
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