Tag: Therapist Lady

15 Years His Wife: The End

I’ve danced long enough with metaphors and hints. I circled and paced, eating my hands bloody. The truth is not beautiful and I will not give you splendid adjectives along with breathtaking scenery tonight. My time has come. Let me out of this cage, I rage. You’ve read the good. The facade, and as I type these words I realize…

Leaving On A Jet Plane

Last year, I went somewhere by myself. I drove, navigated, and picked up a strange man at the train station. We hugged and threw his luggage in my already overly-packed Mini Cooper. Then we drove to a parking lot because I have no sense of direction and I desperately needed a cigarette, and we needed to set some kind of…

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