Barry would have had a slew of profane words to fill the air. That was never Amelia’s style.
Beyond the fact that she and her brother took different things from their summers with their grandparents, Amelia took after Grandpa Gregory – never curse when a well-versed line would do.
So she had taken a composition notebook, poured through the books a shelf at a time in their library, and wrote down all of the different insults she could find. When her cousin Isabel found it, Amelia gleefully shared the sources and offered scenarios when they could be used.
Not that she had planned to.
Then there was the dolt teacher in middle school – Mr Norman. The first one to declare that women had nothing meaningful to contribute to literature, let alone culture, when someone pointed out there were were no female authors on the required reading list.
Amelia dodged detention via a biting essay for Mr. Norman and a bitter letter to the school board.
Grandpa Gregory smiled. ‘Words are the true sword in defeating the stubborn sods,’ he wrote in a note left on top of a leather-bound journal.
Amelia’s love of words grew stronger that day and blossomed ever since.
So there was no way in Hades that her soon-to-be-ex was going to get anything of the library.