A lacrymose Democrat has just shown me the image that was on her screen when she folded up her laptop late yesterday afternoon: "Kerry Cheered by Early Exit Polls," or something like that.
Earlier she shared with me an uncanny feeling that stole upon her in the early evening yesterday: the tiniest twinge of sympathy for Bush, this insecure man who's always laboring so mightily to make it seem (to himself and to the world) that he has no vulnernabilities, seeing the look of fear on his face when it seemed like he was going to lose. She didn't tell anyone at the time; she felt ashamed of having had the feeling. "I didn't want to say it, I didn't even want to feel it, because I hate him so much."
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