The week had been rough. With all the stress accumulating, today was particularly distressing.
She wanted to shout at the top of her voice, declaring how bad the world really was, but all she could do was make herself a really strong cup of coffee and then cry a bit over it.
As she stared blankly at the screen full tiny dots of light, she carelessly checked in to the chatroom that she hadn't visited since her first year in college. It was mostly inhabited by horny teenagers, at that time, but she fondly remembered one Stanford gradstudent who suggested her a book on emotions.
As the stranger confided to be of the other gender, she promptly clarified that he should move on if he was looking for sex.
An hour passed.
The only thing that he had moved on to was addressing her as, "me lady..".
She didn't know whether it was the coffee or the guy but her head had paced down on the throbbing.
She had her contact number typed in the next message, when the server lost its connection.
The chatroom dutifully asked her if she wanted to connect with another stranger.
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