it seems, is a fear of cutting things. Particularly food items. Whether it’s ‘the knife’, or the act of cutting into something (exposing what lies underneath), has yet to be established, but what is clear, is that I prefer wholeness to slices.
I have used chopsticks for as long as I can remember, and have always felt uneasy sitting next to someone sawing into a steak. Now, it seems, this ‘peculiarity’ is beginning to affect other parts of my life. It’s a kind of hyper-sensitivity to masticating, named by the doctors here as ‘chorizophrenia’. It’s a little awkward as Lyon seems to be the blood and guts capital of France, and no meal is complete without a little blood spilled on the plate. Maybe I’m being pushed in the V direction. I cannot say the word.
