I examine his face in the light of the beach bonfire. My 20-something conversation partner isn’t trying to be rude; his open expression and kind eyes show genuine curiosity.
I’m completely offended.
I tuck my jacket tight against the cold winter air, cross my arms over my chest, break eye contact, and stare out to sea.
And then I wonder if he’s right.
After a tough decade — and a particularly hard year with a divorce — tired is my predominant adjective. Tired and lost.