"But what you can see on the television, at whatever time of day, is edging too close to her own life; though in her life, nothing stays put in those tidy compartments, comedy here, seedy romance and sentimental tears there, accidental and violent deaths in thirty-second clips they call bites, as if they were chocolate bars. In her life, everything is mixed together."
-An excerpt from The Age of Lead by Margaret Atwood
"Your life is very complicated," she concluded after drinks with her one late Tuesday night in a pub filled with boisterous drunken Japanese men.
"I didn't ask for the drama," she replied in protest. "What I wouldn't give for a simple life that repeats itself day after day."
"You have to choose."
"But I don't want to. Maybe I just want to be selfish for the moment. And why should I consider the other when he's a non-entity for now?"
"Someday, you might have to account to him for your actions now."
"I know, but that someday might never happen and I don't want to set myself up for disappointment."
"So the conclusion is, there is no conclusion."
They left the bar a quarter after midnight, guiltily stuffed with an assortment of fried food and non-the-wiser. Both on the cusp of true adulthood, with the realization that the world is their oyster and this would be the only excusable time in their lives to be young and reckless.