That particular group of solidly married friends
was meant to envy her, or they’d pretended to envy her anyway, for all
these years, but it seemed that being childless and single in your thirties
was very different from being childless and single in your fifties. No longer
glamorous. Now kind of tragic.
I’m only temporarily tragic, she told herself as she pulled on a clean
blouse that showed a lot of cleavage. She tossed the sweaty shirt onto the
back seat, restarted the car, looked over her shoulder, and pulled out onto
the highway. Temporarily Tragic. It could be the name of a band.
There was a sign. She squinted. Tranquillum House, it said.
“Left turn ahead,” said her GPS.
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That p_________ g____ () s____ly m_____] f______
[] [] () e___ her, or they’d p_______] () e___ her a_____, () all
t____ y____, but it [] that [] c________ and s_____ () y___ t_______
[] v___ d________ () [] c________ and s_____ () y___ f______. No l_____
g________. Now k___ () t_____.
I’m o_ly t________ly t_____, she [] h______ () she p____] () a c____
b_____ that [] a lot () c_______. She t____] the s_____ s____ o___ the
b___ s___, r_______] the car, [] () her s_______, and p____] () o___
the h______. Temporarily Tragic. It c____ [] the n___ () a b___.
There [] a s___. She s______]. Tranquillum House, it [].
“Left [] a____,” [] her GPS.