A clattering sound sang out from the dishes as I swung them over the counter. Settling the precarious pile in my right hand onto the level plain I brought my left hand to bear. The weight of the dishes had my arm muscles taunt as I raced to unload.
For an instant I froze. Twin weights had dropped on my shoulders. The heat of a human touch burned through my skin. Every muscle twitched and a voice shrieked silently in my mind. I rushed to repress it. I’m in a safe place.
“Excuse me Allison,” said a kitchen worker as he snatched a plate from a shelf over my head. He smiled and turned back into the fray of the restaurant kitchen at noon.