I first sensed that Julie might be miffed at me when I came home from work to find "Burn in Hell, You Bitch" scrawled in what I sincerely hoped was brown marker. Also, broken glass and the shattered remains of my Grandma's antique china littered the floor. Never a good sign. The couch was partially charred but it appeared she had doused the flames with purple Kool Aid before it got too out of hand. I really knew I was in trouble, though, when I saw the severed head of Nathaniel, the stuffed dog that had been closest companion in childhood. Poor Nathaniel's head lay on the floor next to Julie, where she sat cross-legged on the floor, calmly smoking a cigarette. His body was nowhere to be seen.
"A couple of things," she said. "First, and not to alarm you here, I think I have an anger problem. Secondly, please stop using my shampoo."
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