The desert.
Maria is hugging Jark from behind, and they are gazing at a mirror. Behind them are their roommates. Maria’s chin is nestled in the crook of Jark’s neck, and her hair, auburn, threatens to smother them both. The room is cold, but they are warm. Their clothes are being worn, but that is now, and soon they will be without them, unencumbered and lovely.
“Who’s that handsome young man in the mirror?” Maria says, playfully. She shakes Jark from side to side. They are beautiful.
Jark grins, shyly, for even though he is in love, he is shy and guarded. He is a sensitive person.
“Oh, it’s just Joe, our sexy roommate.” Maria laughs into Jark’s neck. It tickles him, but he cannot laugh because he is genuinely affected by this slight.
And in that flash of sadness on Jark’s face Maria sees how she has hurt her friend with her insensitivity. She sees how she has become her mother, who in her last years lashed out at all those who tried to keep giving. How she cannot be the person she wants to be. How the increasing financial pressure and the likelihood of eviction are about to destroy their beautiful nation of two.
So she decides to go for broke.
She says, “You’re such a fucking man-child.”