The Perfect Ultimatum of the Classic Divorcée

I've decided that I would like to start writing a story and this is sort of what I have so far.

                                       The Perfect Ultimatum of the Classic Divorcée  

   Okay, so I’m gonna tell you a story. It could probably be compared to a soap opera at best; dramatic and utterly tragic. Filled with a little of this and a little of that, sprinkles of the real world and hormonal fantasy all around. A class A, melodramatic, cesspool of cheesy romantic nonsense. So yeah, I can tell you right now… It’s gonna be one of those stories. How else can I put it? You’ve heard stories like these before; a divorced couple with kids trying to get on with their lives in anyway deemed necessary, trying to stay well out of one another’s way and not exactly achieving said goal.     

     It’s like that man Gerald F. Lieberman said, “Divorce is a declaration of independence with only two signers.” Who would have thought that a man who was married up until his death and was a freelance writer would be able to say something about such a thing and be spot on? The only problem that lies in this is that independence in this sort of a situation is nowhere near as liberating as it would seem.

    Now what can I tell you? Well I think the best thing to start out with is to tell you a bit about myself and my family. First off I might as well tell you that I am about 54 years old, have two adult children, and was divorced by my rat b*****d of a cheating husband after 27 years of marriage.

   With my little family there is my eldest son Marcus James Dunnell, 26, and my youngest daughter Roselyn Mary Dunnell, 25. Marcus is a journalist for the Daily Press. He travels the entire country looking for stories to write in various articles within that damnable newspaper. He has a small flat in New York but, is gone so much that the only practical home he has would be my home. I can’t complain though, he enjoys what he does and at least he is able to visit me more often than not.

   As for my daughter Roselyn works in a little store called Bookland Novels, a small bookshop in New York. It’s not a big shop or anything like Barnes & Noble but, it does well on its own. Roselyn always was a book worm ever since she could read. She also lives in a flat there but, unlike my son she actually lives there seeing as how her job doesn’t exactly require her to travel.

    Then there’s my ex-husband, Bernard Thomas Dunnell, 57. He owns three five star restaurants, two three star hotels, has a large house in Andover, Oxford County, in Maine, has two sports cars, and a cat named Bonnie. He also lives with his little thing that he calls Mitsy Jenkins; his little pet that he spent 8 years cheating on me with. She’s 28 and works for a modeling company in the big NYC. She is what I would call a walking stick. A mobile pile of estrogen; all looks and no brain.

    As for me, I’m Frieda René Sanderson-Dunnell.