The Guardian of the Curse
et, a curse: our con
se silence, living as a ja
married me only because her superstitious grandfathe
e for my devout mother, who j
a pregnant Nicole, baked her a p
cole' s lover, intercepted the pie,
roat failed me as he took a bite, the
ling, accusatory finger at my mot
ken to a state nursing home with a dark reputat
he scoffed, revealed my life was a charade based on a fort
w condemnation tore from my throat: "May you lose wha
bury, was now loose, and it was o