There are many stories about Michael Sullivan. Some say he was a decent man. Some say there was no good in him at all. But I once spent 6 weeks on the road with him, in the winter of 1931. This is our story.
It was then that I noticed Harriet wasn’t there. And she wasn’t there the next morning, or the next, or the next 40 years.
It’s okay to live a life others don’t understand.
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