The Gallery
I’ve always had a way with words, or so people thought. In high school, I was the strange girl with hair in a messy bun, wearing oversized sweaters and large glasses, scribbling poems into tattered notebooks. Everyone told me I couldn’t live off poems, that I needed a real job. After a couple of boring jobs in administration, I found a job offer at a publishing house. They were looking for someone to write texts for coffee table books. I was already married at that point, with my husband making...
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