It was an innocent domestic scene. The couple had an argument about loading the dish washer. Then there was a flashback to a previous relationship and another squabble.
It was done from the woman's point of view. It was a well written piece, homework for this week's writing class.
The tutor -the fierce one- asked us for our opinions.
I gave my thoughts. I said it lacked information about the main character, about what she was like, about what she was after, about who she really was.
The girl -the woman- next to me objected. She said it was clear what the character was like and what she thought. The heroine, she said, was a strong, funny, independent woman who thought that men were unreliable and weak. That they didn't know what they wanted. That they were immature and fled responsibility.
Wow. I missed all that. I missed reading between the lines into the life of the woman sitting next to me. How careless of me. How weak and immature of me.
I practically fell to the floor in self-loathing.
Maybe next time I should take pottery class.
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