After an exhausting morning spent talking to children, I go and have lunch with my lawyer friend, Shelley M.
In the restaurant, we are given a table next to one occupied by a drunk, who insists on talking to us.
He speaks of his pain when his wife left him, tells us how sad he is and asks us what he should do.
At one point, Shelley asks the drunk to be quiet, but he says:
‘Why? I spoke of love as a sober man never would. I revealed my joys and my sorrows. I tried to make contact with two strangers. What’s wrong with that?’
‘It’s not the right moment,’ she says.
‘Do you mean that there is a right moment to suffer for love?’
At these words, we invite the drunk to join us.
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