A woman, 60ish, is sitting at a table in a pub. She is in her weekend, going-out best, her face is caked with makeup, and she is a bit drunk. She is talking to a man, about her age, sitting on a stool behind her. In a hard tone, she asks him, "Are you with me, or are you not? Are you with me, or are you not?" She tries to continue with the same attitude, but her voice cracks a little as she says, "Are you?"
Suddenly, she sounds like a young girl, begging for affection. The crack opened the tough veneer, and allowed 40 years of pain to show through for a moment.
Sometimes, life breaks my heart.
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