Misery Acquaints

…there is no other shelter hereabout:
misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
I will here shroud till the
dregs of the storm be past.
— Shakespeare

They couldn’t be stranger bedfellows.

They couldn’t be more different — in Temperament and upbringing.

But there they were.  Bound together in tragedy and purpose, at this point in time.

They needed each other, and they wanted each other’s help.

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