The world didn't end in a bang, or even a whisper. Well, my world didn't. My world ended with a ringing.
I should probably start at the beginning.
Picture it- wait. You'll probably need to know what I look like. Y'know, so you can actually see what I'm showing you.
I'm 5'4". My hair's dirty blonde (but it was light until my mid-twenties). It's also short. I've always kept my hair short. Starting in my early 50s, I wore glasses. All. The time. Up until then, I only needed reading glasses. My reading glasses were these big.. square.. but rounded, glasses. I don't know what they were called, so all I can do is describe 'em. My "full-time" glasses were rounded, rectangular, wire rimmed glasses.
Back to the story.
Picture it. August. 1969.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Rose Jones: Death of the Good
General FictionRose Jones guides you through her life as an army nurse, a Lieutenant, a daughter, a mother, a murderer, and an asshole who's not actually an asshole.
