We've been emoti-conned
We’d had a vicious fight, angry and tear-streaked and brutal and personal. She threw a vase; I upended a table. Snarling, she ripped a phone book in half; I karate-chopped through a plate glass window. She bit me, hard, on the elbow, causing blood to well up in carmine, tooth-shaped beads. So I yanked her ponytail.