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So, what was I — the jilted wife — supposed to do but stand there and look ridiculous? He was essentially unreachable and untouchable — securely tucked away with his paramour on another continent. Making matters worse, I had no known forwarding address or other contact info for him — lovely.
That Lady Who Writes Stuff
Sally Prag
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Oh my goodness, how horrible!
I write creative nonfiction essays and poetry. Rethinking life through my words. Sometimes too seriously, sometimes not seriously enough.
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