Nobody writes about tear-stained keyboards. It just sounds silly. Unlike those ancient authors who wept over literal ink on paper, the blurry letters before me will clear up when my eyes dry.
Again last week, I read a story of abuse. One person, believing himself to be right and just, injured another who was weaker. The physical injuries eventually healed - mostly. But the emotional injuries erupted again last week, some thirty years later. These stories seem to be more and more common.
But this time, I knew the person who was hurt.