T: I knew that.
I knew that already.
No shock No big deal I knew from the start but still but still I I I I
She goes back to the pots. She is addressing the bowl.
Having it spill out spelt out I thought - ah!
T pulls her hand out of the water.
She has cut her finger on a knife.
She squeezes, watches the blood, then licks her finger slowly, and giggles.
She looks at the knife again.
Slowly, in detached curiosity, she picks up the knife and runs it across her wrists, lightly, before choosing a spot and pulling across, not even nearly hard enough.
She moves again, holding her knife and her hand close to her face and repeats, harder; this time it leaves a dent in the elastic skin.
Puts knife aside.
Picks up kitchen scissors, washes them and lifts them out of the bowl.
Successfully cuts her right wrist with scissors. There is not much blood.
Picks up vegetable peeler, washes it and lifts it out of the bowl.
Turns her hand over and presses the peeler down the back of her hand. Repeats, slowly.
Why does this
Rinses the peeler and puts it to dry. There is a meat knife to be washed.
Again, she washes it in the hot water, then runs the tip around the crease in her wrist.
Pulls the knife sharply across, hard.
The cuts are never particularly severe, but the motion becomes more agitated and frantic with each stroke.
No good. Perhaps...don’t be so - (Laughs loudly)
T drops the knife in the sink.
Goes to cupboard and takes red food colouring. Carefully she undoes the lid and spills a drop onto the cuts, then watches in fascination as it runs down her arm, which turns to worry as the red reaches her elbow. First she catches it with her tongue, then frantically she rubs for it to come off, but this makes her knife cuts more open and raw and causes true pain for the first time.