 To what commonality are Sara and her father oblivious?
Divided we stand Sara lets the Lyft park itself in the drive, lets out a sigh, and tweets wish me luck plus some emojis before slipping her phone into a hoody pocket. Curtains twitch, and before she can get her bag out of the back Mom is there, right there next to her, their hands touching on the handle as they compete for control. Mom sighs, shoulders falling, looks at Sara directly. When they part it's Mom's hand that's on the bag's handle. Inside she unwraps herself from scarves and layers, the heat in the house almost a shock after the cold air. "Mom, just leave that and I'll…" "Your father's in the front room," she says, just before she disappears from view. For a few seconds Sara is alone in the hallway, the smell of cooking meat coming from one doorway, the sound of rolling news from another. The war spills out of Fox News, casualty figures scrolling across monochrome drone footage, attack helicopters circling over Caracas apartment blocks, pundits with bronzed skin and immaculate blond hair smiling from four-way split screens. An elderly couple ride a tandem bicycle through a park, laughing and smiling in Instagram-perfect sunshine, as a calm, relaxing voice lists the potentially lethal side effects of a diabetes drug. She regrets the sarcasm as soon as she hears it in her own voice, but she still can't stop herself, like it's expected, like it's part of the routine.
 Their realities both stem from limited, biased media spheres.
 Their realities both stem from limited, biased media spheres.  They both take Sara's mother for granted.  They both claim to support job generation, but invest in companies and entities that eliminate jobs.  The advertisements they watch are driving them apart, versus bringing them together.