Whose wine is it, anyway?

She was somber, subtle always glad, demurely dressed, elegantly clad, always polite, quick to greet, very enthusiastic, always upbeat, graciously poised, placidly calm, seldom aggressive, always warm, bluntness never escaped her lips, her daughter always cradled on her hips, shy at times, but harsh never, always in the background, timid, yet clever, her sorrows, her woes she never expressed, never displayed that she was depressed, t'was a shock to all, grief was rife, when she hung herself and took her life.

On the platform rolled the morning train, I arched into position like a predator on the prowl, I jumped into the rake and sustained a sprain, and like a wounded dog began to howl. I bought myself to stand and staggered towards an empty seat, as hundreds rushed through the compartment door, I dint get a seat, but space enough for my feet, and that's when my phone clattered onto the floor. I dived into the mammoth crowd, and began to grope unsuspecting toes, Several people yelped out loud, and i sustained a few hard blows. Wounded and abashed i almost gave up the search, when the phone came into my hand, with relief i grabbed it amidst a jolt and lurch, but soon realized I couldn't bring myself to stand. I sat crouched on my fours, and soon developed knee sores, The crowd was so large, I couldn't squeeze through them all, and to my horror, other phones began to fall. Soon, we were quite a gathering, all perched on our knees, merrily discussing the Lo...