Thursday, April 27, 2017

No Grammar, No Cry

The scene is a basement of a derelict building. I'm in a dimly lit room with a dozen others. I’m wearing a white T-shirt with the caption NO GRAMMAR, NO CRY. We are sitting in a circle on some creaky old chairs. It's a familiar scene. No one wants to break the silence. It’s my turn to step out on a podium to speak. All eyes are on me. I freeze up for a brief moment (which actually feels like forever). 
I take a deep breath, clear my throat and say, “Hi, my name is Maria. And I'm a grammar junkie.” I pause to look around the room. I see folding tables and stale donuts on a plastic tray.

“Hi Maria,” the others say in unison. Everyone is here. It’s the regular weekly meeting of the group called Grammarholic Anonymous. I take another deep breath before I start my tale about my recent struggle.

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