Hell Hath No Fury

Published in Narratively

An essay about pregnancy, abandonment, and the loneliness of anger. Oh, and some effigies and vengeance goddesses.

I was in my kitchen, prepping for my revenge party; wrapping my toga, dabbing fake blood around my eyes and straightening the crown of papier-mâché snakes on my head. I believed that the evening had all the elements of success: An angry pregnant woman with a boyfriend on the lam, an epic Greek theme, and the chance to torch an effigy.