<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422</id><updated>2012-02-21T21:09:59.199-06:00</updated><category term='Menard'/><category term='Ann'/><category term='Regional Arts Commission'/><category term='Post-Dispatch'/><category term='Grand Center'/><category term='River Trail'/><category term='Target'/><category term='Happy 4th of July'/><category term='Culinaria'/><category term='Marshall'/><category term='Downtown St. Louis'/><category term='parking lot'/><category term='Tower Grove'/><category term='Brentwood'/><category term='Hogden School'/><category term='Russell'/><category term='MO'/><category term='Mann Elementary'/><category term='Schnucks'/><category term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category term='Mardi Gras'/><category term='The Loop'/><category term='City Museum'/><category term='Compton Heights'/><category term='Lafayette Square'/><category term='Train Tracks'/><category term='Shenandoah and Nebraska'/><category term='15th and St. Charles'/><category term='Morgan Ford'/><category term='Macaroni Grill'/><category term='Photo: Noah Ruddy'/><category term='Soulard'/><title type='text'>Unrequited Gloves</title><subtitle type='html'>The untold stories of lost gloves.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4279935647229354106</id><published>2012-02-21T21:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-21T21:09:59.209-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soulard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mardi Gras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ann'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Russell'/><title type='text'>Russell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exVfsINVjMo/T0RT7TQJ5GI/AAAAAAAAAw8/Uwujzn4g5a4/s1600/2.18.12.+Mardi+Gras.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exVfsINVjMo/T0RT7TQJ5GI/AAAAAAAAAw8/Uwujzn4g5a4/s400/2.18.12.+Mardi+Gras.JPG" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Things had been going so well with Ann that Russell decided it was time to introduce her to his friends. Every year, Russell and his friends attended Mardi Gras and this time, he invited Ann to join them. Russell knew it might not be the best atmosphere for getting acquainted, but he didn't anticipate just how well his friends would get to know her. Ann quickly discovered that Russell hadn't been exaggerating when he complimented her chest and that showing it off was the key to free booze, getting to the front of the bathroom line and lots and lots of beads. This delighted Ann and Russell's friends, but Russell wasn't as amused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4279935647229354106?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4279935647229354106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/02/russell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4279935647229354106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4279935647229354106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/02/russell.html' title='Russell'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exVfsINVjMo/T0RT7TQJ5GI/AAAAAAAAAw8/Uwujzn4g5a4/s72-c/2.18.12.+Mardi+Gras.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-2539051335490770058</id><published>2012-01-12T21:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T21:35:06.603-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Downtown St. Louis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='15th and St. Charles'/><title type='text'>Charles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03DsACZQoTw/Tw-cBDB0mwI/AAAAAAAAAvs/ZWRx2ttiNdc/s1600/15th+and+st+charles+-+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03DsACZQoTw/Tw-cBDB0mwI/AAAAAAAAAvs/ZWRx2ttiNdc/s400/15th+and+st+charles+-+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Charles had seen better days. After his behavior at last night's BYOB holiday party, he was pretty certain he would not be welcomed back to teach the second grade next semester.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;A few beers too many, and Charles began confessing his secret crush on Ethel the art teacher to anyone who would listen. Ethel wasn't too amused.&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Apparently, he was supposed to have brought his own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;book&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;for the office-wide gift exchange. Reading had never been Charles' best subject.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-2539051335490770058?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/2539051335490770058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/charles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2539051335490770058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2539051335490770058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/charles.html' title='Charles'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03DsACZQoTw/Tw-cBDB0mwI/AAAAAAAAAvs/ZWRx2ttiNdc/s72-c/15th+and+st+charles+-+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4312669861190540273</id><published>2012-01-02T22:16:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T22:16:59.216-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Schnucks'/><title type='text'>Linda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV7B7eECaos/TwJ41Na87AI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EYrk5PpZGvI/s1600/IMG_20101231_114535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV7B7eECaos/TwJ41Na87AI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EYrk5PpZGvI/s400/IMG_20101231_114535.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Brought up in a wealthy home, Linda had grown accustomed to a life of privilege. It was no secret, then, that she married Ralph only for his money, as he had no good looks to speak of. Linda saw it as the perfect arrangement: he got a hot wife, and she didn't have to work. This didn't last long, much to Linda's dismay. After some self-improvement, Ralph felt confident enough to dump Linda. Ralph lost some weight and got a nose job; Linda would have to get a job, job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4312669861190540273?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4312669861190540273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/linda.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4312669861190540273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4312669861190540273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/linda.html' title='Linda'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV7B7eECaos/TwJ41Na87AI/AAAAAAAAAvk/EYrk5PpZGvI/s72-c/IMG_20101231_114535.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4022353708704091232</id><published>2012-01-01T19:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T19:39:26.571-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Target'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brentwood'/><title type='text'>Leanne</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hQjHfWM3BmE/TwEHAPIf4bI/AAAAAAAAAvY/d9Mfqiy90Ks/s1600/1.16.10+Brentwood+Target%252C+Gabe+H.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hQjHfWM3BmE/TwEHAPIf4bI/AAAAAAAAAvY/d9Mfqiy90Ks/s400/1.16.10+Brentwood+Target%252C+Gabe+H.JPG" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;They'd only been out on a few dates, so when Shawn called to tell Leanne that he would be coming by in a few hours to give her a Christmas present, she was too surprised to make up a proper lie about why he couldn't come over. She only had time to run to Target before he got to her apartment, but she didn't even know what to get him. Why was he giving her a present anyway? Leanne caught sight of a really cute cardigan and decided to just stay in Target and do some shopping for herself instead. Shawn was nice and all, but a new cardigan would be nicer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4022353708704091232?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4022353708704091232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/leanne.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4022353708704091232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4022353708704091232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2012/01/leanne.html' title='Leanne'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hQjHfWM3BmE/TwEHAPIf4bI/AAAAAAAAAvY/d9Mfqiy90Ks/s72-c/1.16.10+Brentwood+Target%252C+Gabe+H.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4944292222419352475</id><published>2011-12-18T22:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T22:24:23.653-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Regional Arts Commission'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Loop'/><title type='text'>Roger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6vkIwJ4bKA/Tu63yHKMmbI/AAAAAAAAAvM/m-Z2Jcrt4A4/s400/2.23.10+RAC%252C+Delmar+Loop.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: 'News Cycle', sans-serif;"&gt;Roger was starting to get the impression that maybe Delilah’s feelings for him had changed. Being with her was a surreal experience and, even though he tended to romanticize things, he thought they made a picture-perfect couple. Lately, however, it seemed that Delilah was only going through the motions. Roger wondered if their relationship was real, or if it was all just a beautiful, beautiful illusion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4944292222419352475?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4944292222419352475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/12/roger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4944292222419352475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4944292222419352475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/12/roger.html' title='Roger'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6vkIwJ4bKA/Tu63yHKMmbI/AAAAAAAAAvM/m-Z2Jcrt4A4/s72-c/2.23.10+RAC%252C+Delmar+Loop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>6128 Delmar Blvd, St Louis, MO 63112, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>38.655119512978715 -90.29727458953857</georss:point><georss:box>38.65201951297871 -90.30221008953858 38.65821951297872 -90.29233908953857</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-3854886592241994143</id><published>2011-03-22T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T21:17:10.698-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City Museum'/><title type='text'>Milton</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2hoH68fdDu8/TWMcDQMUb-I/AAAAAAAAAk0/iTqGub7r9Z0/s1600/2.6.11%2BCity%2BMuseum%2Bparking%2Blot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2hoH68fdDu8/TWMcDQMUb-I/AAAAAAAAAk0/iTqGub7r9Z0/s320/2.6.11%2BCity%2BMuseum%2Bparking%2Blot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Milton was a complicated fellow. He liked to do things his own way, even if it meant that sometimes others didn't understand him. Milton's unconventional ways made it difficult for him to make friends, and even more difficult when it came to romance. Instead of going out to a nice dinner, Milton preferred to take his dates to unexpected locations, like abandoned shoe factories, caves, and, on special occasions, to the circus. Milton rarely made it to the second date, but he didn't mind too much. He knew, deep down, that someday he would meet his unique and unusual match.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-3854886592241994143?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/3854886592241994143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/03/milton.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/3854886592241994143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/3854886592241994143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/03/milton.html' title='Milton'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2hoH68fdDu8/TWMcDQMUb-I/AAAAAAAAAk0/iTqGub7r9Z0/s72-c/2.6.11%2BCity%2BMuseum%2Bparking%2Blot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-8327694159330636517</id><published>2011-02-21T20:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T20:50:19.501-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Train Tracks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morgan Ford'/><title type='text'>Morgan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ItanPgwcJCY/TWMdB8_cK-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/uju5OpW67ys/s1600/2010-04-04%2B15.14.49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ItanPgwcJCY/TWMdB8_cK-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/uju5OpW67ys/s320/2010-04-04%2B15.14.49.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Morgan found it difficult to stay in one place too long and she took some pride in how quickly she could move from town to town. Her record for the shortest time spent in one place was six seconds. The fact that she got off at the wrong train station may have had something to do with that, but it was a record nonetheless. This time, however, Morgan was on the verge of setting a record for the longest time spent in any one location. Alfred was everything she wasn't: dependable, smart, and kind - and he wanted Morgan to move in with him. She imagined what life with Alfred would be like and it scared her how nice it sounded. It scared her so much that she quickly bought a one way ticket and caught the next train out of town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-8327694159330636517?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/8327694159330636517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/02/morgan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8327694159330636517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8327694159330636517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2011/02/morgan.html' title='Morgan'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ItanPgwcJCY/TWMdB8_cK-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/uju5OpW67ys/s72-c/2010-04-04%2B15.14.49.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-6762474491042376177</id><published>2010-12-09T22:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T21:00:13.609-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grand Center'/><title type='text'>Rhonda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWpZFtd1_f4/TWMmuL9CNFI/AAAAAAAAAlE/dCImlgQas4M/s1600/12.9.10+Rhonda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWpZFtd1_f4/TWMmuL9CNFI/AAAAAAAAAlE/dCImlgQas4M/s320/12.9.10+Rhonda.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Rhonda had always been admired for her honest, transparent nature. That is, until she met Pete. He could tell right away that she would be a natural. It started out innocently enough online, then progressed to secret meetings in underground clubs and soon Rhonda was hooked. She quickly became the most successful poker player in the city, all thanks to Pete, but she never cared about the money. Rhonda wanted to confess her feelings for Pete, but she'd become so skilled at hiding her emotions that it was impossible. Pete, mistaking Rhonda's silence for disinterest, decided to cut his losses and leave before he got his heart broken. Guess it's true, Rhonda thought: Lucky in cards, unlucky in love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-6762474491042376177?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/6762474491042376177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/12/rhonda.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6762474491042376177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6762474491042376177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/12/rhonda.html' title='Rhonda'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWpZFtd1_f4/TWMmuL9CNFI/AAAAAAAAAlE/dCImlgQas4M/s72-c/12.9.10+Rhonda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-7477517277269631493</id><published>2010-10-14T21:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T21:01:48.175-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shenandoah and Nebraska'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Compton Heights'/><title type='text'>Sid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gDTBxAGS5Qc/TWMnF-Pl2QI/AAAAAAAAAlI/Ja31rNqDOpQ/s1600/Sid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gDTBxAGS5Qc/TWMnF-Pl2QI/AAAAAAAAAlI/Ja31rNqDOpQ/s320/Sid.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;To say that Sid was sad was a gross understatement. He was downright blue. Shannon was leaving and it didn't matter how many times he begged her to stay. Even when he chased after her as her taxi pulled away, sobbing and yelling for her to come back, he knew she would never change her mind. She had some nerve saying he was too dramatic, Sid thought, as he had a good, loud cry in the middle of the street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-7477517277269631493?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/7477517277269631493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/10/sid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7477517277269631493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7477517277269631493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/10/sid.html' title='Sid'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gDTBxAGS5Qc/TWMnF-Pl2QI/AAAAAAAAAlI/Ja31rNqDOpQ/s72-c/Sid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-8795089566309816171</id><published>2010-10-03T15:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:27:59.145-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hogden School'/><title type='text'>Leo and Violet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s66C5uMk-hE/TWFPGbgfhyI/AAAAAAAAAkA/eFbd1q4KapM/s1600/10.3.10+Leo+and+Violet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s66C5uMk-hE/TWFPGbgfhyI/AAAAAAAAAkA/eFbd1q4KapM/s320/10.3.10+Leo+and+Violet.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was cruel, really, that Leo and Violet were thrust together at such an early age. They were old enough to know how much they were in love, but too young to make it last. Leo told Violet he couldn't be sure she was The One since had never been with anyone else. It was after many years of failed relationships that Leo realized Violet had always been his perfect partner. Violet, however, had entered a convent shortly after Leo broke her heart. She offered to pray for him, but that was the best she could do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-8795089566309816171?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/8795089566309816171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/10/leo-and-violet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8795089566309816171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8795089566309816171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/10/leo-and-violet.html' title='Leo and Violet'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s66C5uMk-hE/TWFPGbgfhyI/AAAAAAAAAkA/eFbd1q4KapM/s72-c/10.3.10+Leo+and+Violet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-2347933929610360737</id><published>2010-07-31T12:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:27:00.540-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grand Center'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parking lot'/><title type='text'>Sheldon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuFqsZNo9QU/TWFO4M2ijPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/sRs6u7xE9io/s1600/7.31.10+Sheldon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuFqsZNo9QU/TWFO4M2ijPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/sRs6u7xE9io/s320/7.31.10+Sheldon.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sheldon had been outside for so long, he couldn't feel the cold anymore, or so he kept telling himself. It was a little dramatic, he realized, but he was determined to get Will's attention. Sheldon had attempted to demonstrate his love&amp;nbsp;by sending Will flowers,&amp;nbsp;by serenading&amp;nbsp;him and writing love sonnets, all to no avail. He even painted an adorable&amp;nbsp;portrait of the two of them sharing a milkshake at the counter of a fifties-style diner. But not even that could melt Will's icy heart. Sheldon, as a last resort, was determined to wait in the snow until Will agreed to go on a date with him. Not even frostbite would deter him. Well, he would stay out there at least until Will got off work and either noticed him or went home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-2347933929610360737?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/2347933929610360737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/sheldon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2347933929610360737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2347933929610360737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/sheldon.html' title='Sheldon'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuFqsZNo9QU/TWFO4M2ijPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/sRs6u7xE9io/s72-c/7.31.10+Sheldon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-5399733639498835576</id><published>2010-07-15T16:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:27:27.055-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marshall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MO'/><title type='text'>Gladys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hApE1JZLbRo/TWFO-SSiDMI/AAAAAAAAAj8/ZAs8xZ3kIbY/s1600/7.15.10+Gladys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hApE1JZLbRo/TWFO-SSiDMI/AAAAAAAAAj8/ZAs8xZ3kIbY/s320/7.15.10+Gladys.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Gladys thought fondly on the days of her youth, when her biggest worry was what she would wear to the high school prom. Her senior year, she was asked by two boys. The first was Roy, the captain of the football team, the other was her best friend, Jim. Of course, she rejected Jim and went with Roy, whose grandest accomplishment since high school was holding down a full-time job at the local Wal-Mart. Jim, however, went on to become a famous psychic with his own television show. Despite the fact that Jim hadn't replied to any of the telepathic messages she sent him, Gladys held on to the hope that someday he would forgive her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-5399733639498835576?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/5399733639498835576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/gladys.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/5399733639498835576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/5399733639498835576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/gladys.html' title='Gladys'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hApE1JZLbRo/TWFO-SSiDMI/AAAAAAAAAj8/ZAs8xZ3kIbY/s72-c/7.15.10+Gladys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-2531009472630916468</id><published>2010-07-02T15:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T15:33:06.257-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Noah Ruddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy 4th of July'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='River Trail'/><title type='text'>Liberty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TC5Cnd8dfOI/AAAAAAAAAXc/kJXVlXkOQxc/s1600/Noah,+Bycicle+Ride+3-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TC5Cnd8dfOI/AAAAAAAAAXc/kJXVlXkOQxc/s320/Noah,+Bycicle+Ride+3-8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Liberty had spent months preparing for her adventure out west and she was ready for anything the great outdoors could throw at her. As fate would have it, the night before Liberty was supposed to leave town, she met Paul. A lifetime of planning couldn't have prepared her for the fireworks that went off when she looked into his eyes. Paul promised Liberty he would wait for her return, but once she had started her journey, all she could think about was being with him. On the side of the road, she contemplated her fate. Should she give up on her dreams of adventure? Or would love prove to be the greatest adventure Liberty would ever know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-2531009472630916468?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/2531009472630916468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/liberty.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2531009472630916468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/2531009472630916468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/07/liberty.html' title='Liberty'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TC5Cnd8dfOI/AAAAAAAAAXc/kJXVlXkOQxc/s72-c/Noah,+Bycicle+Ride+3-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-800146860016146480</id><published>2010-06-21T15:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T15:34:48.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grand Center'/><title type='text'>Olive</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TB-cJWKO_II/AAAAAAAAAXE/3QmP_YLu-uA/s1600/2010-03-31+15.59.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TB-cJWKO_II/AAAAAAAAAXE/3QmP_YLu-uA/s320/2010-03-31+15.59.18.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Olive had serious commitment issues. She was inconsistent even when it came to her occasional smoking habit. It wasn't until Olive met Xavier, a beautiful and talented cabaret performer, that she considered changing her ways. Olive approached him after one of his shows to compliment his performance and they spent hours talking and flirting. By the end of the night, they had plans to go out on a date. The only trouble was, Xavier only dated non-smokers and Olive suddenly found herself unable to quit. Olive didn't know whether to be depressed over her situation, or to celebrate the fact that, for the first time in her life, she was able to finally commit to something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-800146860016146480?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/800146860016146480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/olive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/800146860016146480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/800146860016146480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/olive.html' title='Olive'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TB-cJWKO_II/AAAAAAAAAXE/3QmP_YLu-uA/s72-c/2010-03-31+15.59.18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-6384626868313636964</id><published>2010-06-16T11:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T16:07:48.704-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soulard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mardi Gras'/><title type='text'>Allen &amp; Clementine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBkB1EevF-I/AAAAAAAAAUE/okKpwpaOtSw/s1600/MG+Glove+amongst+trash+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBkB1EevF-I/AAAAAAAAAUE/okKpwpaOtSw/s320/MG+Glove+amongst+trash+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483416032547641314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To the outside world, Allen and Clementine had always seemed like a perfect match, but no one could see the trouble brewing below the surface. Clementine had always known that Allen, a long-time alcoholic, snuck out at night to drink, but she never let on that she knew his secret. It was during one of these escapades that Allen was shocked to discover Clementine had a dark side of her own. They decided it was best to pretend their accidental encounter that night never happened. They also decided it was time to start attending some meetings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-6384626868313636964?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/6384626868313636964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/allen-clementine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6384626868313636964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6384626868313636964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/allen-clementine.html' title='Allen &amp; Clementine'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBkB1EevF-I/AAAAAAAAAUE/okKpwpaOtSw/s72-c/MG+Glove+amongst+trash+Gabe+Hartwig.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4667956703282948314</id><published>2010-06-14T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T11:21:58.767-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lafayette Square'/><title type='text'>Darryl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBK2eiSOeOI/AAAAAAAAATY/GZesCE11kXo/s1600/2010-06-05+13.10.08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBK2eiSOeOI/AAAAAAAAATY/GZesCE11kXo/s320/2010-06-05+13.10.08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481644332178897122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Darryl had been trampled on and ignored for years. He'd blended into the background his whole life and sometimes it felt as if he were invisible, especially to Babette. Maybe it was because of her antiquated expectation that he would be a strong protector. Maybe it was because he wasn't French. And maybe Darryl was the one who needed some protecting. In a moment of defiance, he packed up his things and said au revoir to Babette, but she didn't hear him. C'est la vie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4667956703282948314?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4667956703282948314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/darryl.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4667956703282948314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4667956703282948314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/06/darryl.html' title='Darryl'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hjosdjA_yrQ/TBK2eiSOeOI/AAAAAAAAATY/GZesCE11kXo/s72-c/2010-06-05+13.10.08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-7734144963207299773</id><published>2010-04-16T14:22:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:24:49.291-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Post-Dispatch'/><title type='text'>Betty &amp; Chuck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-6e8-IJPBE/TWFOXtNoE0I/AAAAAAAAAjs/NNk6bqoa60k/s1600/4.16.10+Betty+and+Chuck+%2528Betty%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-6e8-IJPBE/TWFOXtNoE0I/AAAAAAAAAjs/NNk6bqoa60k/s320/4.16.10+Betty+and+Chuck+%2528Betty%2529.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Betty thought that by running away she could escape her problems, but somehow they always found a way back to her. This town was no different, but she finally realized just how much she had lost when she left Chuck. Was her life with him so bad? The worst part was that her realization came too late. Seeing his engagement announcement in that morning's paper was like being punched in the stomach. She had no choice but to start packing and move on to the next town, even though she knew the same old problems wouldn't be far behind. The only thing she cared about was getting as far away from there as possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-7734144963207299773?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/7734144963207299773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/04/betty-chuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7734144963207299773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7734144963207299773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/04/betty-chuck.html' title='Betty &amp; Chuck'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-6e8-IJPBE/TWFOXtNoE0I/AAAAAAAAAjs/NNk6bqoa60k/s72-c/4.16.10+Betty+and+Chuck+%2528Betty%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-1570239656465529494</id><published>2010-04-09T17:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:25:11.953-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mann Elementary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tower Grove'/><title type='text'>Drew</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R0uy5pIBLME/TWFOcoQH5wI/AAAAAAAAAjw/c9-NtrF_5Co/s1600/4.9.10+Drew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="311" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R0uy5pIBLME/TWFOcoQH5wI/AAAAAAAAAjw/c9-NtrF_5Co/s320/4.9.10+Drew.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Drew felt as if his whole world had been turned inside-out and upside-down. It might have been a mistake revealing his feelings for Alan, his closest friend since grade school, but there was no way to change it now. Through his tears, Drew realized that it was better to have risked rejection than to continue suffering in silence. Besides, he would make plenty of new friends when he started college in California next fall. He'd also have a new roommate since Alan would no longer be attending the same school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-1570239656465529494?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/1570239656465529494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/04/drew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/1570239656465529494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/1570239656465529494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/04/drew.html' title='Drew'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R0uy5pIBLME/TWFOcoQH5wI/AAAAAAAAAjw/c9-NtrF_5Co/s72-c/4.9.10+Drew.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4418234584199893758</id><published>2010-04-01T16:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:25:39.946-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Macaroni Grill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brentwood'/><title type='text'>Cassandra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-howQEnYO9vc/TWFOihS5UuI/AAAAAAAAAj0/UsvIFO2K6A8/s1600/4.1.10+Cassandra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-howQEnYO9vc/TWFOihS5UuI/AAAAAAAAAj0/UsvIFO2K6A8/s320/4.1.10+Cassandra.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Cassandra always felt at home in Roman's embrace. She knew Roman only saw her as a friend, but she still clung to the hope that one day he would realize how perfect they were together. She imagined they would run off to Italy, floating through Venice on a gondola, sharing a bottle of wine while the sun set. What difference did it make that he was her step-brother? They weren't technically related. In Italy, they understand. They celebrate love in all its glory, even if some might consider it weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4418234584199893758?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4418234584199893758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/cassandra.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4418234584199893758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4418234584199893758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/cassandra.html' title='Cassandra'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-howQEnYO9vc/TWFOihS5UuI/AAAAAAAAAj0/UsvIFO2K6A8/s72-c/4.1.10+Cassandra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-6515680724971506450</id><published>2010-03-31T16:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:24:15.083-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo: Gabe Hartwig'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Culinaria'/><title type='text'>Donna</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unwqN8UJwsA/TWFOO0otGKI/AAAAAAAAAjo/UHnZUwu6Gto/s1600/3.31.10+Donna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unwqN8UJwsA/TWFOO0otGKI/AAAAAAAAAjo/UHnZUwu6Gto/s320/3.31.10+Donna.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Donna allowed herself a brief moment to remember her time spent on earth. If she could go back and change one thing, she wouldn't have been so cruel to Billy. He was always so kind and gentle, it shouldn't have mattered that he worked as a checkout clerk. At least he had a steady job. He could have been the love of her life, but now she'll never know. She threw it all away because of her pride and look where that got her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-6515680724971506450?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/6515680724971506450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/donna.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6515680724971506450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/6515680724971506450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/donna.html' title='Donna'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unwqN8UJwsA/TWFOO0otGKI/AAAAAAAAAjo/UHnZUwu6Gto/s72-c/3.31.10+Donna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-7003670322382165921</id><published>2010-03-30T15:05:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:23:52.793-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Loop'/><title type='text'>Moby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Eq4-L44ULE/TWFOJadzzQI/AAAAAAAAAjk/U0DWkSij1qk/s1600/3.30.10+Moby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Eq4-L44ULE/TWFOJadzzQI/AAAAAAAAAjk/U0DWkSij1qk/s320/3.30.10+Moby.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Moby had hit rock bottom. Charlotte was his soulmate and when she left, he went into a downward spiral, drinking to numb the pain and wandering the streets at night. Moby had fallen asleep in a gutter and woke up just in time to escape the approaching headlights. It was then he saw his reflection in a nearby puddle and vowed to turn his life around. It was time to get sober and finish his novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-7003670322382165921?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/7003670322382165921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/moby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7003670322382165921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/7003670322382165921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/moby.html' title='Moby'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Eq4-L44ULE/TWFOJadzzQI/AAAAAAAAAjk/U0DWkSij1qk/s72-c/3.30.10+Moby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-4823026826691555764</id><published>2010-03-30T15:04:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:23:29.963-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Loop'/><title type='text'>Francine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hxs9xeRk9t8/TWFODmDhXNI/AAAAAAAAAjg/w5bX64KyXhQ/s1600/3.30.10+Francine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hxs9xeRk9t8/TWFODmDhXNI/AAAAAAAAAjg/w5bX64KyXhQ/s320/3.30.10+Francine.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Francine found herself at a crossroads. She could go back to her safe, predictable life with Jim or she could see the world with her new lover, Fernando. He saw great potential in her as a magician's assistant and begged her to join him on his international tour. She had until midnight to decide or he would leave for Rio without her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-4823026826691555764?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/4823026826691555764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/francine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4823026826691555764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/4823026826691555764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/francine.html' title='Francine'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hxs9xeRk9t8/TWFODmDhXNI/AAAAAAAAAjg/w5bX64KyXhQ/s72-c/3.30.10+Francine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197231158153073422.post-8113939100836773003</id><published>2010-03-30T14:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:22:54.293-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grand Center'/><title type='text'>Chuck &amp; Betty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W_sEKHTiG_Y/TWFN2_VdtuI/AAAAAAAAAjc/0WEVX0JYT6k/s1600/3.30.10+Chuck+and+Betty+%2528Chuck%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W_sEKHTiG_Y/TWFN2_VdtuI/AAAAAAAAAjc/0WEVX0JYT6k/s320/3.30.10+Chuck+and+Betty+%2528Chuck%2529.jpg" width="280" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Chuck tried everything he could to keep Betty from leaving. He bent over backwards trying to make her happy, he crossed lines he didn't know he could cross, but in the end it wasn't enough. She just got in that car, drove away and never looked back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197231158153073422-8113939100836773003?l=unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/feeds/8113939100836773003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/chuck-betty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8113939100836773003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197231158153073422/posts/default/8113939100836773003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unrequitedgloves.blogspot.com/2010/03/chuck-betty.html' title='Chuck &amp; Betty'/><author><name>Emilee Murphree</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdxpwztSgWM/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAw0/PdQpwxbNa2Q/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W_sEKHTiG_Y/TWFN2_VdtuI/AAAAAAAAAjc/0WEVX0JYT6k/s72-c/3.30.10+Chuck+and+Betty+%2528Chuck%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
