Piece treaty: The cracks that define us

If there is one truth I've had to face this year, it is this: I am broken.

- Charles Assisi

This is not a conclusion arrived at dramatically. It came slowly, over too many hours spent ina coffee shop not far from home. The kind of place that is plush and a little pretentious; built for Work-From-Anywhere types. [don’t work there. I sit. I watch. A lifetime in journalism makes that an easy thing to do.

What struck me first were the regulars. They don't just enter; they arrive, with the easy swagger of people who believe a place belongs to them. They greet the baristas like they are old friends, though nothing else about their interactions suggests familiarity, closeness or warmth. They look around in the manner of people checking if the room still matches their memory of it. Then they settle into a favourite chair that almost always appears unoccupied, with the authority of people who helped choose the furniture.

The longer I watched, the more I noticed their performances slip.