so i'm at the bookstore, drinking my venti decaf soy vanilla latte at 140 degrees, when a lady comes to sit beside me. turns out it's C, the lady i met awhile ago in the summertime. we had spoken briefly, as i was working on a story that had me in tears, and she asked me if i was alright. so we started talking. i don't know what prompted it, but she told me she was getting a divorce, and was in the middle of exams. so we talked about the divorce for a bit. and then later she confided that she had no idea he was leaving her for another woman, and then later she confided that he used to hit her, and hit the kids. i asked if she ever reported him, and she said no. she knows social workers, and she does psychology (go figure) and that her kids would be put into foster care. so she never told anyone.
i had no words for her. i just said i'd pray...
1 comment:
There's a lot of truth in your title. I've often wondered just what stories lie behind the people I see at random in bookstores, in coffee shops, in the car beside me at the stop light. I'm sure many are dull, many are intriguing, and many are just tragic.
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