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Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Post Card

I stared at the postcard in my hand, a fulminant warmth, then coldness, pervading my body. Scarcely noticing the postman as he gave me a casual wave, I stood there, in the driveway, like a cleaning woman gone mad. Then I was stumbling, the world a stigma through my tears, pushing open the front door and bolting it. sink to the floor, I buried my head in my hands and wept, miserably, for what I held was the evidence of what my marriage was, a sham.

What was the use, I thought, of being marital to a successful lawyer and having the picture-perfect life? What was the use of marrying someone who did not love you?

I stared at the words again. How crafty it was! Wish you were here! Indeed, I thought, I wish I was there, to punch you in the face. No longer was I crying, I felt a rage within me and my anger gave me strength. How could I have been so blind? Why did I not see the tell-tale signs?

You fool! I thought. I cursed myself for my ignorance. enumerate what he had the nerve to send you. The image and the words were to a greater extent than a slap in the face. It was as though spot had taken my entire life and just cruelly, happily flung it tooshie at me. I hate him! I hate him! I shook my head trying to clear the words simply it was to no avail.

On second thought, we’ll call you! One sentence, yet one, alone, by God, it meant so very(prenominal) much.

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An urgent business conference, he had said. What a smooth liar! Of course, it was natural for him to take his very young and beautiful secretary. What a change from his plain, quiet married woman!

I stood in front of the kitchen sink. Never a more(prenominal) beautiful day for sadness. Blue sky, golden Caribbean sunshine and single a few cirrus clouds in the distance. Oh, Mark essential be enjoying himself. What was he doing now? I wondered.

The rage returned, but fleetingly. Remember, I told myself, he’s coming home today. “Yes!”, a little voice echoed in my ear, “and we’ll have a confusion for him!”

He walked in through the door,...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com



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