Laughter of friends in the corner of the cafe.
Leafing through the ads of the paper;
the one that comes every Sunday.
Smiles as they remember other times gone by.
Still anger about the fact that one of them
is still seeing, "that guy."
Disdain is felt and ardently shared;
then a sale is seen, blanketed across the back page
and the topic is changed, like neither had cared.
Such are women and all their delight;
Can cut each other down
over the littlest slight.
But if there's a bargain they both witness then all is forgiven,
muses the blocked writer three tables over,
"Eh, not great, but it's a living."
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