I cannot stop these thoughts like a poisoned fog swirling in my head. It's my nineteenth birthday and 1920, the beginning of a new decade.
My mother has bought me a stunning turquoise skirt and friends have invited me to a soiree this evening. I will attend but only for the alcohol to numb the pain.
I'll visit George this afternoon if he'll allow me. My horrendous images are nothing compared to his. I wonder if he'll ever be free. He insists I find someone else. I cannot. I try to smile at my mother...but it's too painful.
My mother has bought me a stunning turquoise skirt and friends have invited me to a soiree this evening. I will attend but only for the alcohol to numb the pain.
I'll visit George this afternoon if he'll allow me. My horrendous images are nothing compared to his. I wonder if he'll ever be free. He insists I find someone else. I cannot. I try to smile at my mother...but it's too painful.
