For just a moment, I thought she was going to cry.
She had turned her body and her face away from her husband and their two young children. I don’t think she knew anybody could see her. There was pain in her face. It wasn’t anger. It was the pain of disappointment and resignation. And then she pasted her mask back on and returned to the life which seemed to hurt her so much.
That’s what I saw anyway. Maybe I’m wrong. But for the long moment when I looked into her face and saw something that no human should have to feel, time slowed and I felt as though I could have reached out and touched her soul.
This was Friday night in the Walmart near my house, but I see similar pain on faces all around me, almost every day. I see people who I believe are miserable. It seems as though the pain and hurt and disappointment are etched onto their faces — hidden briefly by masks — and I wonder why nobody else seems to see what I see.

In other news, donations keep pouring in to feed the monkeys
Feds to trucking co.: You can’t fire the drunk, but you’re liable for him
Deep-seated shame makes it hard for me to take my needs seriously
Bloomberg: Policing what you eat part of ‘government’s highest duty’
Will better marketing make you love state-controlled medical industry?
With each ‘improvement,’ we’re losing family and community
Face of a stalker? At Florida school, it’s ‘stalking’ to speak of karma
Social media can be dangerous for those of us raised by narcissists
If you’ll quit worshiping celebrities, their antics will quit shocking you