Back in 1974 I was going out with a 15 year-old runaway. Her mother was insane. Ann ran from the house naked during a blizzard. I found her hugging a tree in the backyard. Her hair flailing between gusts of snowflakes. Her mad eyes grasped my face and she said in the voice of MacBeth three witches, "You the ne'er-do well, you'll never be anything."
9:04 PM
It was close to a curse but in many ways ended more as a blessing.
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