She hid her tears in the cubes of toilet paper stripped from the holder. She hadn't expected to have been invited in the first place, and the crunch of glass had toppled like her emotions. It was enough.
It's funny how something dropping in slow motion could cripple her so. Everyone stared at the icy puddle on the tiles. An encompassing stiffling watchfulness. When will she move to scoop it up?
Skidding heels on the tiles, small patters of laughter, someone with a dust pan to remove the slaughter and the shards.
Someone was banging on the door. Her heart skipped, to check on her?
"Get out! I'm going to puke."
She howled into her toilet paper shroud as moans came from outside the door.
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