may, georgina h.

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full name georgina harper may age 22 home town salt lake city, utah current city nyc, new york education community college occupation massage therapist ________________________________________ ________________________________________ 2 NEPHI 2:15 - AND IT MUST NEEDS BE THAT THERE WAS AN OPPOSITION; EVEN THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT IN OPPOSITION TO THE TREE OF LIFE; THE ONE BEING SWEET AND THE OTHER BITTER. I'm not sure when everything began or when everything ended. I grew up in a small house just outside of Salt Lake City, the footprints of missionary work forever pressed into our front walk, their knuckles on our door. My family wasn't Mormon, and they stayed that way, though always accepting and ventured out to gatherings with our neighbors, who were. We lived in peace, not comforted by the thought of God, but not offended by it either. In all my time there, I never swam in the Salt Lake, because it's honestly flat out disgusting. On my 16th birthday I answered yet another knock at my door, two bold and smartly dressed young men standing behind it. Their name tags bore the dead give away, they gave me their spiel and I politely declined. There had always been a lot of happiness in our lives. My parents raised me with a kindness and care, my grand parents are still alive, my sister and older brother never really fought over much. Death, hardship was something I wasn't aware of. I met Oscar six months later, licking an ice cream cone and trying not to dribble chocolate all over my chin. He offered me napkins and remained vaguely familiar to me, though I could never place where for the longest time. We were married just shy of turning 17. It seems to be a miracle that both our parents agreed that we could walk down the aisle. We loved and we loved until I could love no harder. He was Mormon. Maybe God thought I was due for mine. I remember the morning clearly, kissing my scruffy husband on the cheek and watching him move down the front walk to his car. I put up my left hand and waved until he couldn't see me any more, and I still kept waving, my face bright and happy, holding the smile even after I turned to go inside. That was the last time I'd watch him stand. That was the last time he'd walk away from me. A hunting accident made sure that he wouldn't. We divorced when I was 20. He watched from his chair as I walked out, the day sunny and bright. He didn't smile, nor wave his left hand to wave until I couldn't see him. He cried and turned his back on me before I was even gone. ________________________________________ your name holly play-by elsa your most recent work why did we do this