I have given up on the idea that facts alone will change a zealot’s mind, but a conversation shouldn’t be a battle for status or points
The woman’s distress is real. Over several hours I watch her pace and curse and sweat, racked by the kind of angst you would expect from somebody due a fatal diagnosis or whose loved one had been lost at sea.
The human instinct is to comfort – and I do try – but I already know it’s pointless. There’s nothing wrong. She is consumed with outrage at something that never happened.
