Frozen Pizza & Rage

Becoming Olivia Red


Sitting in my car at 10:13pm on a Wednesday night with dripping wet hair, I am shaking. I am shaking violently; not from the cold, or from extreme exhaustion, not from the wet hair clinging to the back of my neck, but from searing rage. I am sitting in my car in the Kroger parking lot with a bag full of frozen pizza and ranch, frozen pizza and ranch that are the only groceries I have been able to buy in over two weeks, the groceries that I have purchased so that the man who has caused me to see red can eat when he gets home from work.

Perhaps it should come as no surprise that after years of complacency, the anger brewing inside of me would begin to boil over and give off an overwhelming festering stench that consumed my entire being. It is all I can do to…

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Bangladesh Chittagong