The person in the waiting room may be carrying news nobody at home has heard yet.

Ordinary rooms hold extraordinary weight without showing it. The person beside you in a waiting area, or ahead of you in a queue, may have been told something an hour ago that nobody in their family knows yet, and they are sitting with it alone while deciding how to say it. Most of the heaviest hours in a life are spent looking entirely unremarkable.

This is a reason for small courtesies with strangers rather than for worry. Let the moment of slowness pass without a sigh. And when someone is short with you, allow the possibility that today is not a day you can see into.