Jessica Knoll

"I could decide not to let go. Slip the forged nickel and stainless steel blade (the Shun, decided I liked it better) soundlessly into his stomach. The salesman would probably emit a simple dignified 'Oh!' It was the mother carrying her crusty-nosed baby behind him who was the screamer. You could just tell she was that dangerous combination of bored and dramatic, that she would gleefully, tearfully recount the attack to the news reporters who would later swarm of the scene. I turned the knife over before I could tense, before I could launch, before every muscle in my body, forever on high alert, contracted as if on autopilot."

- Excerpt from Luckiest Girl Alive, by Jessica Knoll