Jul 20, 2007 12:02
I met this hot artist guy somehow and he saw this picture I have of me and Lilah and wanted to paint a portrait of us from the picture. I said sure and thought I'd probably never hear from him again, but he called me sometime later because it was finished and he wanted me to come see it, so I did. He had this awesome apartment, and the portrait was amazing. We ended up dating, falling in love, getting married. He had this unexplored chunk of land in Canada or somewhere and we went to check it out and found the ruins of this astonishingly lovely city and decided to live there. We invited some friends to come live there too. We picked the "best" house for ourselves (none of them had electricity or plumbing, they were just rooms carved out of rock) and chose to put our last name above the door, which was Miner. There was a mine on the property (thus his name, I guess this was his ancestral homeland) and we found gold, and we shared with our friends so we all prospered, but of course we had the most because we found it first. We had a couple of kids and were having a great time raising them in this idyllic place. My dad came to stay there too. My husband was interested in magic so we practised a routine and he put on neighborhood magic shows and I was his "lovely assistant". The shows were a big hit. Everything seemed about as great as it could be, and then I started flirting with one of the neighbors, and something else bad happened I can't really remember, and it all came crashing down. The police showed up, accusing me of being an escaped convict or something and I had to get the hell out of there. I lost it all. I pretty much had to live alone in the woods, never got to see the kids again, lost the house, the man, the money, the respect, and lived like an animal, meal to meal. The worst part is I could hear somehow all the awful things that were being said about me, all the catty gossip and even wounding little sound bytes from my dad about how he always suspected I'd meet a bad end.
love