There came an almighty clunk from the kitchen. Then a deadly silence. I called out. No response. She was hunched over the sink, head in hands, unable to speak from the trauma of having a heavy piece of wood drop on her head. It was from Ikea.
Needless to say I presumed instantly that the mishap was my fault, that my repeated but unloved attempts to keep a small congested apartment shipshape had backfired again. It was me.
Only later did I discover my innocence. Shock and a feeling of foolishness caused the most damage. Everything else would repair itself.