Borrowing Amor
“If a man were in charge of things, you’d have food. End of story. And it would be something he picked up at the store on his way there.”
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not primitive enough for you,” Ruby said, no longer able to hold the tears back. She stood and ran into the bathroom.
Ruby glanced at her reflection in the mirror and was immediately sorry she had. She didn’t understand women who somehow became more beautiful when they cried, a few teardrops sprinkled on their cheeks, adding an exquisite touch.
Not Ruby.
She was an ugly crier. Her eyes were already swollen, bloodshot and red, which matched perfectly with her hideous, splotchy face.
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