It was around lunch on a Thursday and I was sitting in my office, my mind on the complexity of the human plight. At some point, I had crossed into that stage of womanhood wherein I no longer wanted to be the holder of emotions for humanity. Which landed me just north of middle aged, divorced, and broke. My office, which was in the strip mall near Back Cove and close enough to 295 to feel the traffic patterns, had sprung a window leak. Which was bad. On the other hand, rent was cheap and people knew where to find

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