Shirley was heading to Florida. Fifty-something, blond and smiling, she happily wheeled her suitcases toward the departure gate.
She was from Halifax, but was heading south to visit family. This was her sixth straight Christmas in Florida - the first trip came the Year of Her Divorce. She stayed six months then, seeking solace in the sun, but the trip had gotten shorter every year. This year, she could only spare two weeks. Still.
She couldn’t afford anything at all when she was married to ‘that creep’. Divorce had turned out well for her. She had a good job and an even better annual escape to the sun.
In the intervening years, the creep had remarried – and had two strokes. Shirley, meanwhile, was hitting her stride. She hauled her suitcases cheerily down the hall, heading for another fortnight in the sun.