I remember my speech therapist as this glowing blond angel who started pulling words out of my brain. Like when Ursula steals Ariel’s voice in The Little Mermaid, only she was putting the voice into me, while doctors removed my vestigial fish tail. And even though she was from Staten Island and probably had a thick Green Book accent, in my memory she sounds like the fairy godmother in Cinderella.*2 “Come on now, Colin! Enunciate! Let the magic of words transport you!” Instead of what she really said: “Repeat after me: My ex-husband is trash. If I catch him with another Perkins waitress, I’m
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