The first rays of the faithful day are unsurprisingly overwhelmed by the apparent morning gloom. She has taken the liberty to put on her favorite sweater and slap on a layer or two of refined make-up. She checks on her mobile, then his mobile. It is a gross habit at that, and she knows he is the best keeper of the darkest secrets. It wouldn’t gain her a penny or half, it wouldn’t make her a notch happier or half.
But a woman got to do what she ought to do.
