One night I saw the glint of light on broken glass, and I knew the moon was shining.
A burnt sienna-haired woman was draped in black. She stormed back and forth across a little room, sneering and yelling and rolling her eyes - raging and beautiful in the way only a furious woman can be. A man towered and lumbered around her, menacing and massive one moment, comical and infantile the next, powerful and afraid.
I sat a few feet away, sipping room temperature coffee from a white polystyrene cup, watching, nodding and laughing.
