A Shoebox House, by Rhonda Phelps

Coming in September:

It’s rare to find a date the organic way. Cyber-dating is the fad of the century, but it wasn’t what I expected when I signed up on Match.com. I had heard raving reviews about people on dating sites nurturing relationships, meeting their match, and pledging marriage. In spite of the online trolls that tried to sabotage the fun, unexpected friendships and romance manifested within a few months.

When sparks started to flow, the world was poised for pleasure and I was entwined in adventure with my internet boyfriend. Picnics, splashing in the rain, and gentle massages accompanied fine wine, succulent grapes and brie cheese. Summer glistened on waterfalls while hiking in the spacious national forests, and the night life hosted fun and friends. The cultural intake from museums, car show’s and live music linked our interests and we formed an indescribable bond. We were embracing life.

One weekend when he came to town, I became flustered and disoriented and everything was going wrong. I was beginning to doubt my rational existence. Two days later I was tossed into a lifeless and foreign world, and my friendships were in jeopardy. I felt like a fool, my spirit was hollow, and I craved answers. Obsessed with redemption, I discovered the truth as it was revealed through a series of real life emails, social media, Messenger logs and hand-written letters.

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