The once beautiful woman stands at the waiter station, darkly glaring over the crowded restaurant. Her complexion has become blotchy with her barely suppressed anger and despondency.

Trudging around morosely, she serves all of her customers with equal disdain. After the shift, she counts her meagre takings in the bar area, numbing her pain with a double gin straight up.

She confides in her fellow waitress, for perhaps the hundredth time: “You know, he spouted all of that nonsensical twaddle about love, and blinded me with a nice mansion and a ride on his Harley. But he just wouldn’t do it, he wouldn’t commit to me!”

She cries a bit, before going home to her motel room. Sleeping fitfully, she half wakes up in anticipation whenever she hears a Harley, just to jolt fully awake, realise that it’s over, and go back to her grey dreams.