It was blood red. The whole room was red. Each teller, banker, even the bowl of candy, all red. My body was a bowl of jello flung across the room by my amygdala. It's target: my mother. That's how it happens. One second I am a placid lake. The next second I am a wild animal. You can ask any one of my family members and they'll tell you the same thing. And so each moment of joy has an accompanying moment of remorse. I think I've aged a thousand years. I don't like it.