Miss Anathema Jane McMurtry had dedicated her entire life
to being as much of a cross for her Daddy to bear as was humanely possible.
It wasn’t as if she’d asked her mama to run off with a
drummer man, leaving her to be raised by a foul-tempered old coot such as her
father. It surely wasn’t her idea to be saddled with the name he’d given her
out of nothing but pure spitefulness.
Rather than dwell on the misfortune of it all, she
opted instead to do her level best to live up to that name every single day.
This story was written for the Tuesday Tales prompt: anathema
This story was written for the Tuesday Tales prompt: anathema

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