Through some kind of divider or partition, I’m looking from a dark room into a lighted kitchen. There, a middle-aged woman and a young man are rather languidly and distractedly preparing some food. They’re obviously an item (perhaps having just emerged from the bedroom), and they’re obviously not married. Then, there’s the sound of the front door opening and someone entering an adjacent room. The woman’s husband has come home. I see her look up, straight towards me, with a startled expression on her face. Then the husband enters the kitchen and stands there, taking in the scene at a glance. Then, very earnestly and sincerely, the young man says to the husband, “Boy, life is sure short, isn’t it?”
