She was brilliant. Truly. She was a marvel at getting people to pretend to like her. The amazing thing was that they agreed to the pretense without a word spoken.
They didn’t like her. She knew it. They knew it. They knew she knew it.
It was a marvelous game and she played it with gusto, weaving in and through and around the crowd, nodding here, gently clasping an elbow there.
To watch her required inner balance; a waving line between being utterly appalled at the dishonesty and deeply satisfied with the subterfuge…
690 Saint Paul 