She had seen me and lifted her tear-stained face, the distress changing to confrontation. I spoke before she could. "It doesn't get any easier, does i...?" What does?" She was perplexed."The unhappiness, the sorrow, the feeling of failure." You know it?" Yes." I replied. "I know it all too well." She examined my face, trying to decide if I was telling the truth or not."How would you know?" She had obviously decided. "Men cause the problem, they don't feel anything. You are all totally unfeeling.". Snapping out of the reverie that had become her life she simply stood there before answering. But all that came out was a whimper. ‘Are you ready?’ ‘Not really,’ she said as she tried to hold back her tears. Her ebony hair blew in the wind, lightly caressing her face. Though she had tried to suppress her tears, they began to stream down her cocoa tinted cheeks, slowly falling to the ground. The grey blanket that wrapped around her frail shoulders did nothing at all for the cold. Her hands still. More

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