The Man Everyone Pitted with Loneliness
When I turned thirty-six, the whispers began to follow me like shadows.
“He’s not married yet?”
“At that age? Must be something wrong with him.”
“Guess he’ll die alone with his chickens.”
In our small Midwestern town, where everyone knew everyone’s business, being unmarried past thirty was practically a scandal. But truthfully, I had made peace with solitude.
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