Snapshot

Today on the way home a car in the oncoming lane violently pulled off the road onto the shoulder, still under construction, throwing up dust. Lights red the drivers foot pressed hard to the floor. As I pass he is irate yelling at his female passenger, shaking his finger leaning toward her. In the rear view mirror I see her getting out on the curb where there is no sidewalk, she is wearing shorts and flip flops. I keep moving looking back, he pulls away. I wonder if this is the first time this has happened, has he abandoned her before on a stretch of road, leaving her to fend for herself. Did he come back moments later and get her realizing the absurdity of the act or did he just keep driving, bitch would not shut up. Maybe it was the best thing to happen to her in a long time, the opportunity to get away, to reclaim her sense of self. Maybe she really loves him even though he is a prick and cannot manage his anger, lashing out, hurting her deeply, all she wants is to love him and be loved by him but broken people can't love. Even I know that. I wonder if I should go back, pick her up, insinuate myself into her life, help her see the light about assholes. I keep driving, it's the second time this week that I have witnessed in public, this level of domestic despair confirming that more people than I would care to count live lives of quiet desperation.