The Married Man's Lament
When the will is trapped in the state of matrimony, the imagination remains unbound.
We met, so to speak, after each of us had given our order to the barristas behind the counter. We did not really meet in any sense that could be called a meeting of anything other than the mind and perhaps, of the will. She was in the line to my left, backlit from the street. She was not a perfect beauty, but in these situations, more beauty is the enemy of enough. She was a woman buying a cup of joe. I was also buying a...