Venom.

Camera number one shows the layout of the scene. It’s a retirement party. Everyone is saying goodbye to a Department of Corrections cohort. We are outdoors, in someone’s front yard. I am between conversations, observing the crowd from a lawn chair in the middle of the yard. Beth is walking around aimlessly, but not being disruptive. She is the only child at the party. Cameral number two (from a low angle) focuses on two women in the distance, from my seated perspective ten feet away. There are other conversations going on all around us, but the sound picks up the women’s conversation – already in progress. “…that child, her parents can keep her.” Flash to camera number three (no transition), close-up on my face; my eyebrows arch with interest. Flash to camera number two. The women resume their conversation, the previous speaker elaborates on her last statement, “I share an office with her mother. I KNOW things.” Now flash back to camera number three. There is a subtle change in my expression. Something has changed in my demeanor. There is a look of suppressed emotion on my face.

A narrator speaks:
“I KNOW that I am angry.”
“I KNOW that I have just heard part of this conversation out of context, so I must stay cool.”
“I KNOW that my mind is rushing to conclusions anyway.”
“I KNOW that people come as a package. You take some bad with the good. There are parts of my daughter’s package that I could do without, but I wouldn’t trade the whole for anything in the world.”
“I KNOW that I just spent an afternoon with my daughter that was just precious, one of too many to count.”
“I KNOW that everyone has their faults. The trick is to know what they are, and keep them in check.”
“I KNOW I have them.”
“Do YOU?”