One Teardrop At a Time

Let the tears flow. Tears of survival. Tears of determination.

Erma: I assure you, Sylvia, it’ll pass. It’ll be over soon.

Sylvia: You think so? Promise? Because honestly, Erma, I don’t know if I have anything left. I’m so tired.

Erma: Bullshit, Sylvia. There’s always something left, so grab the Kleenex.