This is how my aunt Margaret left her husband.

Took him to a posh neighborhood, shortly after his company had been stiffed on a construction job, forcing him to file bankruptcy. She parked the car in front of one of the swell mansions and shut it off.

She said, "We will never live like this."

She said, "We will never have nice things."

She said, "I'm leaving you," and did.

Came out some agonizing months later that she had taken my now ex-uncle to the neighborhood of her lover, a doctor and wealthy gaddabout. Had parked in front of his mansion.

The divorce became final the week my grandmother died, but up there in the front pew, the doctor (as we call him) beside her, she looked strangely serene, a bit of a blushing bride.

None of us say much to aunt Margaret anymore.

She is a tiny woman, looks withered beyond her years from chain-smoking and piety, and whatever the doctor ordered (true to the soap operatic nature of this story, there were prescription drugs involved).

To sum: she is evil, she should burn.

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