Stripping out the thorns
A rose is a rose by any other name, but what about the thorns? What to do with those pesky pricks that thrive on blood, yours mainly? Well my motto is see ya later alligator.
I just finished Constance Adler’s My Bayou and closed the book with a sigh and a feeling of relief. Her story mirrors part of my story, and so therefore, I’m glad those chapters are over.
As for the thorns on the roses? Alas, we toughen our flesh and move forward towards our own existential bliss.