'Grief wins nothing' she told herself in consolation. 'Grief makes me old before my time.' No, it didn't help. Grief might not be on the top ten list, but Sarah felt very strongly that she was being cheated out of hers. Sam slammed back another and got up from the table. "I'm going to the store, you want anything?" she asked. Sarah said nothing in response, and Sam grabbed her wallet before she left the room. Sarah wanted to wail in the rain, or stare over the edge of a bridge wondering whether or not she could ever give up. 

Instead, she got up and started running water in the sink, adding soap, drowning the glasses of stupid visitors who thought they could help. Adding the plates that held empty food, sugar for the stomach but not the soul, Sarah wondered how long before people would stop 'dropping by'. Adding Sam's glass, even though Sarah knew she had gone to get more liquor. Never enough.