I will blame myself forever, so don't worry about expending energy doing that for me.

Head lice, they said, in a note from school, carefully concealed as if they were worried someone might see, someone who shouldn't see.

First, think of my original intent.

Gasoline, I thought, would suffocate head lice. Save us the money the school wanted us to spend on fancy shampoo.

I doused her head, her beautiful black curls bouncing between my fingers, the sharp intoxication of the petrol rising from the sink.

I closed my eyes, drunk with it the way you'd close your eyes enjoying a secret sniff of the junk drawer's black permanent marker.

The stove was right there, my tea almost ready.

Then, there were no more bouncing black curls. Now, her head looks like some ancient Galapagos creature. She stares at me with constant surprise.

A wonder, that I am still alive.