I'M BREAKING UP WITH JEFF BEZOS

Submitted into Contest #139 in response to: Format your story in the style of diary entries.... view prompt

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Contemporary Creative Nonfiction Funny

I'M BREAKING UP WITH JEFF BEZOS


I confess. Jeff Bezos knows me more intimately than my husband does. But don't tell his ex-wife. And I haven't been able to hide it from my husband. No, I swear, it's true. Couldn't be more true. Jeff and I communicate more frequently, more personally, and just MORE than I communicate with any other human on this Covid confined planet.


I can't just punch a delete button on my keyboard and wipe my order and return history out of my life like I can with my Google browsing history. So I have left a telling, shameful, guilt-provoking trail of evidence that reveals how the mundane-icity(my story, my word) of my life has telescoped and shriveled.


My order and returns status functions as my personal diary. It'll have to do. If it's good enough for Jeff, it's good enough for Reedsy.


Order status: returns and orders, out for delivery, tracking, delivered....just the sight or sound of these words spikes a tsunami of adrenalin. My breath hitches in my chest and my heart quickens. Jeff and I are developing a fast bond. He definitely speaks my love languages: acts of service, gifts, words of affirmation. Maybe we're fated.


My browsing history reveals my interests, my passions, maybe even my fears.. Having been sheltered in my home for almost twenty-two, three, four months now, I am sure my browsing history tells a story of what has gone on in my mind. But what has gone on in my life is perhaps more colorfully revealed in my Amazon account: the salacious tale of my attachment to Jeff Bezos. Yes, I am his Amazon Hussy.


April - Mostly just order novels, to read and keep myself occupied. I've gotten bored with reading free amateurish works on Wattpad and my grandkids' Inkitt.


The looming pandemic has forced me into solitary confinement for almost two months now. Let's see, in my isolation and boredom, I have morphed into a paragon of purchase power, allowing myself two hours of browsing absolute necessities offered on Amazon. Daily. I have amassed nearly 90 hours, that's nearly four entire days and nights of bug-eyed staring at a screen, pressing that Buy button.


My husband, who is fully vaccinated, is free to go out into the world. Soon, he is announcing his arrival back home with a hearty “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and belting out “Here Comes Santa Claus” as he picks up the treasures that the mysterious elf in the dark van from Amazon Prime has slipped onto my doorstep.. And yeah, just like near Christmas, a spike of excitement interrupts my repetitive chores of the day.


I am soon able to identify which of the drivers has been here by their quick knock, the sound of the material that they habitually knock on, by the familiar clump of their shoes or boots on my doorstep, or simply by the absence of any sign they've

been here except for the packages they leave.


May - One leather-bound King James Version of the American Bible. Arrived damaged, pages torn and spine broken. Can I send it back? No, just keep it, it's of no use, so we'll just send you a new one. I'm personally offended by that commentary: it's of no use. It's a bible, the Word of God. May not be of use to you, Jeff Bezos, but it's super important to us peons. Where's your attitude of gratitude?


Sometimes I wonder if the deliveryman knows me more intimately than my own family, certainly better than my husband, who is too busy in the world outside to notice the world I am dragging into my isolation, order by order, package by package.


The anonymous fellows who follow the noisy green disposal truck early every Tuesday morning probably exchange rolling eyes and snarky comments as they pick up and cart off the growing mountains of plain brown packing paper, bubble wrap, some recently invented air pocket cushion packaging, and the airless, floating styrofoam peanuts that are still lurking months later under dusty furniture.


I have probably exceeded my limit of cardboard boxes to be cut down, folded up, crunched over, and trucked away to the recycle center. I am sure they have had to hire one or two extra workers just to keep up with my recyclables.


June ll - My birthday month will be fun, filled with buying power because I have received some Amazon gift cards. Jeff and I have been spending more and more time together, growing ever closer.


My husband interrupts his busy life to suggest I order a facemask, like the ones I was forced to wear eighteen years ago during months of chemo. "Shut up, go away, don't remind me," I say to him. I promised myself I would never put another one of those monstrosities on again. Thanks, anyway, I'll just stay home, locked up inside this house until this stupid covid thing is over. It surely can't last much longer.


June 13 - 1 N95 facemask, no, 10 of those suckers...just in case. I might need to go out or someone might even come here. Just want to be prepared.


June 15 - Package delivered. I open the box, lift one of the masks out, try it on in front of the mirror. My heart is pounding nearly out of its chest cavity, breaths are coming in shallow gasps. I'd forgotten the panic attacks this or any reminder brings on. Rip the mask off, deep breathe, repack it in its box, maybe try to return it for credit. Reason for return? ..cowardice, bad memories, do I really have to tell the truth here?


This is such a tedious chore, returning something I may need but don't want, that I just retape the box and set it in that dark empty space under my bathroom sink behind the bleach bottle and under the waffle weave spa towel sets x 2 that I recently received in that familiar white insulated bag with the striped edges, another Amazon giveaway.


July 1 - l Deluxe Bug Out Backpack, fully loaded. I don't remember when I decided this was something I would order ahead for my husband's August birthday. I might have gotten the bright idea when he started watching endless youtube videos predicting a crashing economy and supply chain shortages.


I also don't remember watching a lot of videos on an impending zombie apocalypse, but I'm sure I didn't imagine it on my own. So I am deeply involved in prepper land, helping my husband prepare for when the world ends and the zombies take over. Well, they'll certainly be well fed if they stop by my house. Just check out my pantry, my garage, my Amazon order and return history.


I ordered how many pounds of grains? Yep, 400 pounds per person per year. Just ask the homesteaders and their frenzied friends, the preppers. Do they have any idea how much space that 400 pounds of wheat flour, 200 pounds of rice, 200 pounds of beans, 200 pounds of cornmeal take up. Just ask the Amazon Prime driver, or his UPS counterpart, how heavy those bags are.


What're we doing with l00 pounds of rolled oats? We don't even like them!


And all this prepper pandemonium sets up a domino effect in my Amazon prime account. It records an absolute frenzy of bulk buying of spices and condiments. I'm not going to be caught living off the grid, subsisting on wheat, beans, and rice without a lot of flavoring going on. So if there is no meat protein available, we will be eating a lot of beans and rice, spiced, heavily spiced, VERY heavily spiced.


Well, I get ahead of the curve on this problem and decide I will buy up meat while it is still available. In huge amounts. That means I will need to figure out how to store it until I figure out how to prepare it and save it. Jeff has options. Many.


Back to youtube for research into preservation land. So...


July 21 - I order two books on canning, both scintillating best sellers. They arrive the next day. Thanks, Jeff. Must have known I was getting desperate. I get busy reading them to find out what my next Amazon searches will be: canning jars and the elusive canning jar lids.


Unfortunately, already deep into food preservation land, I veer with a left-hand turn into pickle land, steeped in vinegars, pickling jars, and pickling spices. I clean out a lot of my kitchen cupboards to house all these neat canning and preserving supplies that Jeff sends me.


I try my own hand at vinegar-making until my visiting grandchildren begin complaining about the horrible stench in my pantry. I try to sneak the rancid jars into the garage, but my husband refuses to let me stink up his favorite little Mercedes convertible with the new leather upholstery out there. Picky, picky, poor sport!


So, I guess I'll be buying vinegar in bulk. Wonder how much a five-gallon jug weighs? Poor Amazon Prime guy.


August 29 - Dirt! Perhaps I ordered six bags of dirt, well, actually potting soil. And I've been lusting, almost salivating, over some salacious-looking bails of fresh golden hay. Yeah, we have dived even deeper into prepper territory and have taken another step towards food security.


I take pity on my Amazon Prime delivery man, who grunts as he wrestles boxes and bags of assorted farming and gardening equipment onto my front porch. I need to start tipping that guy before he quits his job and goes on permanent social security disability from his back injuries, schlepping my recent orders to my front door.


August 29 - much later...

“It's your what?” I ask my husband. “Oh, yes, today is your birthday! No, I didn't forget. Take a look right outside the front door. Yep, there it is, your present. 55-gallon capacity. Woohoo."


'What is it? Why is it so big and bright blue? Well, it's a specially formulated storage tank for potable water. Of course, it has a faucet, it has all the parts you'll need to assemble it and even some tablets to treat the water.


Oh, from Jeff, of course. It's to go with that bugout bag I got you...you know, for when we have to bug out when we go off the grid."


"No, I didn't forget that what you really wanted was some ammunition and a new Henry Golden Boy 22 caliber rifle. I think it was probably on backorder. Jeff will let us know when it is back in stock. He'll even help make sure we get the best price.


Can't you wait?~ Are you planning on shooting someone anytime soon? Leave me out of it. And Jeff, too.”


Sept. 2 - My husband arrives home early before I get the bag out of sight. “What's this shit?” he wants to know. He's so funny, asking silly questions and holding his nose.


“Poultry Poop!”


Yeah, my research on youtube informs me that these expensive chicken droppings are like liquid gold. Of course, I will need to water it down to make a weak poop tea, but reports say it is dyn-o-mite on plants. My husband coins a new name for this concoction, Shitty Shit Tea. Clever guy.


I remind myself to just keep laughing at his jokes. Lucky I'm married to someone with a good sense of humor...and a poor sense of smell.


This will have to suffice until Jeff sends us baby chicks to make our own poop. I think we can turn our potting shed into a chicken coop for a couple hundred dollars. Or Jeff could always steer me to an economical chicken coop made from a refurbished wheelbarrow, one that's mobile. Wow, such versatility!


I'll Google it and see if I need to order a companionable rooster. Hope not, because I suspect Mr. Cocky Locky would not be welcomed with open arms into our suburban neighborhood. The neighbors are less than thrilled with our gardening efforts. Don't want to push my luck.


Yes, we are working on a garden, actually a raised garden, or two, or three, or maybe four. What happened to my beautiful backyard Floritam turf? And who filled in my koi pond? Oh, naturally, that's logical. The pond has turned into a hill for zucchini, melons, and pickling cukes, of course, to go with the pickling spices and vinegars Jeff sent me.


I have some fish emulsion ordered that should be arriving by 10 pm tomorrow, Jeff promised. I'm informed it smells as bad as cow manure, maybe even worse. I'll hope the plastic container doesn't leak on my front porch or living room floor as I drag it through the house and out the back door, past the pool to finally end up in my potting shed.


Sept. 20 - Many packets of vegetable seeds. Herbs, too. You need them to start a victory garden, right? We'll plant them as soon as we get the two truckloads of garden soil out of our front yard where the recycling center delivery truck dumped it. And this might have to wait until we get a delivery on that wheelbarrow and garden wagon I ordered.


Jeff suggested a shovel and a post-hole digger, and I find his offers too good to pass up. They'll arrive Saturday. Jeff informs me that there might be a slight delay in delivery due to supply chain disruptions. It's okay, Jeff, I understand.


My husband wonders who will be shoveling all that dirt and dragging it into the backyard to be dumped into our new raised gardens. And, he wants to know, how long before we know if our garden will be a victory garden or otherwise.


I tell him to have faith. And shut up. And also not to skimp on those core strengthening exercises, because he is going to need a strong core for all that shoveling.


No, of COURSE, I don't tell him that last part. He'll find out soon enough. No sense bothering his handsome head with it this soon.


January - Been really busy in the less than victorious Victory garden. Spent a lot of time and energy on Google and youtube researching where we went wrong. We seem to have snatched defeat right out of the arms of victory with our raised garden. The PH testing kits, two of those suckers that Jeff sent, have not told the truth, or at least not the whole story..about the condition of our soil.


Ever helpful, Jeff is generous in his assortment of soil amendments available for my purchase to bring the PH to 5.5 to 6.5 so that our fresh, new plants do not get acid burn. Thanks, Jeff, who knew?!


My attorney daughter is becoming suspicious of my more than platonic attachment to Jeff, citing all the boxes and bags and frequent visits by the dark van as evidence. But she's complicit, suggesting we not stop with chickens. We just might as well go all out with some pollinators. “Sure, pollinators,” I say,” I'll bet Jeff can help me with that. I'll think about it".


February 11 - 2022 Lenovo laptop computer loaded with Microsoft 11. Wow, it arrives a week earlier than expected, so Jeff and I are back on. Everyone, even a billionaire, deserves a second chance.


And he did send me a great textbook on bees. We'll probably end up having Jeff ship us some do-it-yourself beehive.


Yeah, I thought over that pollinator idea. Hope I don't hurt his feelings when I have to send off to some local bee-keeper for a queen and some drones and worker bees. I

AM NOT a two-timer!


My husband wants to know if I am ready to face the real world again. What? And give up Jeff?


March 2 - Oh, oh, my husband checked my order history while he was helping set up my new laptop.


“Hey, honey,” he says, “do you have any idea how much you've ordered from this guy Jeff?”


Silly boy, of course not. But I'll bet HE does.


Sure, we recently ordered a huge stand-up freezer to accommodate some of our prepping paraphenalia, which means we had to send off for a Generac generator, which meand we had to have a slab poured out back. Expensive, huh? But that was long after Jeff and I became a thing, so blame it on him.


When faced with the overwhelming evidence of my Amazon history, I'm weakening. The Covid epidemic is coming to an end, maybe time to get back out into the world. I might relent. I need to share time with my garden, my canning jars, my vinegars, and devote precious time to kids and grandkids. Yes, I agree, it's probably time for Jeff and me to break up...or at least take a break.


March 26 - My husband wonders if Jeff offers counseling for Amazon addicts. I won't ask Jeff; I'm going cold turkey, zero communication. We're breaking up. Remember?

March 26, 2022 20:24

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28 comments

Michał Przywara
16:18 Apr 02, 2022

Ha, this was great! And what a creative idea, turning it into a story. Looking at your order history and tracking how your interests changed and developed -- yup, that sounds familiar :) In another comment you mentioned you could expand this into a book, and yeah, I absolutely believe that. Thanks for sharing! Now I'm wondering about my own purchase histories.

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Felice Noelle
17:45 Apr 02, 2022

Michael: Thanks for the read and the comment. I'd bet this would resonate with almost everyone, and they could each write their own. Since I wrote it, husband has reminded me of many more like the delivery of hundreds of live earthworms, or the dry ice delivery of monarch butterflies ready to pump up their wings and fly away. Check out your own return and order history....for a good laugh. When I have a free moment I will read one of your stories for a like and a comment, reciprocity. Maureen

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22:48 Mar 26, 2022

HILARIOUS and too true. Of course Amazon knows the darkest secrets of our hearts. Ending is spot on. And nice use of semicolons -- woo hoo! This could use a little formatting to make the reading easier. Instead of: March26 Husband wonders if Jeff offers counseling for Amazon addiction. Try: March 26 - My husband wonders if Jeff offers counseling for Amazon addiction. It's little stuff like that that I've found helps the reader through the text. Best line: August 29 Dirt! (hahhahahahah) You should do stand up :)

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14:53 May 08, 2022

This is accurate AF

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Felice Noelle
15:10 May 08, 2022

J: Glad you liked the story. But did it make you laugh? I really tried hard to access my funnybone, but it was buried under a lot of serious shit. Let me know if I was able to give you even a giggle. Thanks for the read. Felice

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Graham Kinross
12:17 Apr 08, 2022

The Silicon Valley kings know far too much about us all. Whoever said crime doesn’t pay wasn’t thinking about tax avoidance. I remember the weird stuff I got recommended to me after my ex used my account to buy stuff for myself. Amazon thought I was into cross dressing for a while after that. Now I’m a teacher so it thinks my tastes jump from science fiction and fantasy to Pete the Cat early years books.

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L.M. Lydon
21:57 Apr 06, 2022

HAHA! I love this documentation of the addictive relationship with Jeff (sadly, I feel like we all have a slightly skewed one somewhere these days). This was a particularly catchy phrase: "a paragon of purchase power, allowing myself two hours of browsing absolute necessities offered on Amazon".

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Crows_ Garden
15:27 Apr 05, 2022

I don't know what I expected when I saw the title of this.. But this was not it. I love the way you wrote it, may need a bit format editing, but other than that you had me chuckling and wanting more. Wonderful job!

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Felice Noelle
15:40 Apr 05, 2022

Leo:; Thanks so much for the read and the kind comments. It's too late for it now, but I would try for an easier formatting, I know. I need to remind myself to make it easy to read. I;m usually just satisfied to get it written, but I realize the level of professionalism on this Reedsy requires more. And I'll try to learn from you all. I try to reciprocate, so let me know if you have a story you'd like for me to read. I'm glad you enjoyed this one...as much as I enjoyed writing it. Maureen

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Crows_ Garden
15:47 Apr 05, 2022

Of course! I understand that bit. Just learn and notice some things, that's all. I get that, Reedsy needs a certain level of something.

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Cindy Strube
07:17 Apr 05, 2022

Yep…yep… the rush when we see the notification: “3 stops away”. “Delivered.” “How did we do?” Hilarious and poignant! Agree with Deidra’s comment on formatting. It’s minor, but would make for smoother reading. The method you chose is fresh - unlike those mounds of spices by the time you get through them! If you get a chance, let me know what you think of “The Longest Day” or “Beauty for Ashes”.

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Thom With An H
12:19 Apr 04, 2022

Felice, I loved this story. I love how true it is but even more so how well it’s written. From the premise to the title to the execution this is perfection. I hope you find other avenues to share this story because it deserves a larger audience. I think this is the first story of yours I’ve read but I’m most assuredly won’t be the last. Fantastic work.

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Felice Noelle
13:26 Apr 04, 2022

Lee: I am honored you liked my story; I consider your reading it high praise coming from someone whose work I so enjoy. And admire. Thanks for making my day and encouraging a new writer. I don't do TikTok, Facebook, and all the other platforms out there. I leave that up to my kids and grandkids. My husband is the only one who will even read my writing. When this Covid mess began and I had to isolate because of my immune-compromised condition, I began to write. I have written three novels and have a fourth funny one in the works. Jus...

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Lavonne H.
22:14 Apr 02, 2022

Felice! Hilarious but oh, so true ...and covid isn't over yet so I will meet you in that place reserved for those with Amazon addictions. I actually had to go back and read your tags, halfway through. 'Cause I thought the whole 'order history as diary' would've made a great mystery --ordering dirt, shovel, etc for the burying of a body ;) Now, why do I have that old song "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" going through my head as I tell you, this was a fun read! Yours in writing, Lavonne

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Felice Noelle
22:28 Apr 02, 2022

Was it the Everly Brothers, Teresa Brewer, ooowwwthat really dates me. Ricky Nelson? My husband of fifty years has always sung and hummed little songs and ditties in my ear and we have some that have marked the hallmarks of our lives. Hey take that idea of a mystery and see what you can do with it. I think that might be a fabulous idea....murder mystery from Amazon returns and order history. I am reminded of an old Rod Serling or Alfred Hitchcock creepy story of a husband who buried his murdered wife under some roe bushes he had ordered ...

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Lavonne H.
22:43 Apr 02, 2022

Dear Maureen, I had to look it up! Would you believe Neil Sedaka!!!??? I will see when a Reedsy prompt takes me to the garden (hee, hee.) And you take that lovely shared part of your marriage for some future story as well; what a treasure you have there. Just as an aside, my sons would ask me not to sing to them when they were little ;) ;) Your husband must have a wonderful voice. Yours in writing, Lavonne

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Felice Noelle
22:51 Apr 02, 2022

My husband has a terrible voice, always off-key. He is the only person his uncle, a Baptist pastor, ever banned from his choir, anointing him usher=for=life. Ha! His sense of rhythm and beat were off too, he once sent me flying backwards through a restraining rope at the Copa Cabana here in town. We still laugh about it. I just recently watched a netflix special on Neil Sedaka I think. Yeah, that's the one. Husband says a lot of singers sang it, and told me to stop calling him Ricky Nelson, he was just plain Rick. Husband used to own...

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Lavonne H.
23:46 Apr 02, 2022

"Memories" with Barbra Streisand? You have a story/novel for sure!

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Annette C
18:43 Apr 02, 2022

I can relate to this story. I almost fainted when I was told to use mask to go out when I had just come off of using masks in 2019 due to cancer. The way you tell the story is funny. My Amazon history could make anyone wonder "what am I really getting ready for?" My parents call my basement a little super market - thanks to Jeff!! hahaha

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Felice Noelle
18:58 Apr 02, 2022

Annette: I'm glad you can relate to the Amazon references, but sorry we have to bond over the cancer masks. Your memories are fresh, but mine still feel like yesterday and it's been about eighteen years. I still have appointments at the cancer center for shots, so I am reminded with the sight of all those masked folks in the chemo room. Hope you are doing well. Thanks for sharing some of your experiences. My husband has us so prepared for armageddon, or Bidon geddon, that he might be disappointed if nothing happens. All our kids thin...

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Megan Phillips
18:37 Apr 02, 2022

I can relate!

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Felice Noelle
18:51 Apr 02, 2022

Megan: I KNEW it would resonate. Write me one and I'll read it. I have to laugh at the whole Amazon thing, because otherwise it is so scary and dystrophic that it's anxiety-provoking, right? Thanks for reading. I'll take a look-see and see if you have anything for me to read for you. Maureen

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Megan Phillips
19:53 Apr 02, 2022

Ok. Thank you! Warning my stories are pretty childish.

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Felice Noelle
20:02 Apr 02, 2022

Hey, childish is just POV. I wrote one from the POV of a stupid, idealistic six-year-old Catholic girl. And it was a lot of fun, even though it was true and I really suffered through that year. Read it and see how childish others can write..."The Year My Magic Died." I just always seem to learn more from my gaffs and mistakes. Maureen

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Megan Phillips
20:15 Apr 02, 2022

Ya! Ill be sure to read it. I just wrote a new one. It's called "The Game Of Existing." It kinda has to do with magical powers and how cool it would be to have them!

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Francis Daisy
00:11 Mar 30, 2022

So very relatable! Laughed my way through your story!

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Felice Noelle
00:19 Mar 30, 2022

Thanks so much for stopping by and giving it a read. The story practically wrote itself. If truth be told I could probably expand it into a book. We probably ALL could, right? I'm glad you enjoyed it. My husband surely did, even when I poked fun at him. Maureen I'd be happy to read something of yours in return, if you'd let me know what you'd like read.

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Francis Daisy
00:29 Mar 30, 2022

Felice, I would actually be embarrassed if you read any of mine as my stories are barely Reedsy worthy. Maybe "The girls chose Hawaii" - if you do want to stop over to take a look? Or "Delores rages" - I am actually cringing as I type this as I am not sure I want to recommend any of my pieces....yikes! How intimidating! You are such a good writer!

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