{"id":56269,"date":"2026-05-05T03:21:40","date_gmt":"2026-05-05T03:21:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269"},"modified":"2026-05-05T03:21:40","modified_gmt":"2026-05-05T03:21:40","slug":"they-all-laughed-at-me-the-weak-desk-girl-of-fort-meridian-until-a-corrupt-general-pushed-a-recruit-too-far-i-didnt-just-break-his-ribs-in-three-seconds-i-dismantled-his-entire-criminal-empi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269","title":{"rendered":"They all laughed at me, the “weak desk girl” of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn’t just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy."},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n

The metallic tang of blood and Arizona dust filled my mouth as I stared at the dirt, my vision blurring. A heavy combat boot pressed into my side, and I felt a rib snap\u2014a sharp, white-hot flash of agony that would have sent any other “desk analyst” into shock.<\/p>\n

“Get up, Thorne! Or did all that time staring at computer screens turn your spine into jelly?” General Thaddius Harwick\u2019s voice boomed over the training grounds of Fort Meridian.<\/p>\n

To everyone here, I\u2019m Arya Thorne\u2014a five-foot-two intel clerk with thick glasses and a nervous habit of biting my lip. They think I\u2019m the weak link, the “paper-pusher” sent here because I couldn\u2019t hack it in the field. But they\u2019re wrong. I\u2019m a ghost. I belong to the Phantom Division, a unit so black-budget it doesn\u2019t even have a name in the Pentagon\u2019s records. I wasn’t sent to Fort Meridian to analyze data; I was sent to cut out a cancer.<\/p>\n

Five minutes ago, I watched Harwick lose his mind. He wasn’t training Zara Kellins, a twenty-year-old recruit; he was breaking her. He\u2019d slammed her into the gravel, screaming insults that had nothing to do with soldiering and everything to do with his own twisted brand of sadism. When I stepped forward to intervene, the entire base went silent. Nobody stands up to the “War Hero” Harwick.<\/p>\n

“Sir, the recruit is injured,” I had said, my voice intentionally trembling.<\/p>\n

His response was a backhand that sent me spinning. Now, he\u2019s standing over me, his shadow looming like a dark monolith against the desert sun. He calls me a “weak bitch,” his face contorted with a terrifying, jagged joy. He loves this. He loves the power of crushing someone who can\u2019t fight back. He thinks I\u2019m a victim.<\/p>\n

He doesn\u2019t know that my hand is already hovering inches from his carotid artery. He doesn\u2019t know that I\u2019ve neutralized international assassins in less time than it takes him to bark an order. As he draws his foot back for another kick, intending to finish the job, the “weak analyst” persona vanishes. My heartbeat slows to a steady, lethal rhythm. The air shifts. I look up, and for the first time, he sees my eyes\u2014not the eyes of a clerk, but the eyes of a predator.<\/p>\n

I spent years hiding in the shadows of the Phantom Division, but Harwick just forced me into the light. When a war hero becomes a tyrant, it takes a ghost to bring him down. You won’t believe what happens when the “weak” finally fight back. The rest of the story is below \ud83d\udc47<\/p>\n

\n

PART 2<\/b><\/h3>\n

The kick never landed. In a blur of motion that defied the laws of the physics Harwick thought he understood, I spun. My hand shot out, catching his ankle mid-air, and with a sharp twist of my hips, I leveraged his own three-hundred-pound momentum against him. The “War Hero” hit the dirt with a bone-jarring thud that echoed across the silent parade ground.<\/p>\n

I was on him before he could draw a breath. My knee pinned his chest, my forearm locked against his throat, cutting off his oxygen just enough to let him know he was dying. His eyes, previously filled with arrogance, widened into dinner plates of pure, unadulterated terror. He tried to thrash, to use his massive strength, but I knew every pressure point, every mechanical weakness of the human frame. To him, I was a demon that had suddenly materialized out of a girl.<\/p>\n

“Three seconds, Thaddius,” I whispered, my voice a cold blade against his ear. “That\u2019s how long it would take me to end your legacy. No more ‘hero’ speeches. Just a corpse in the dust.”<\/p>\n

The surrounding soldiers were frozen, statues of disbelief. Zara Kellins gasped, her eyes moving from the fallen giant to the small woman holding him down. I let go, stepping back with a grace that felt entirely foreign to the Arya Thorne they knew. Harwick scrambled back, gasping for air, clutching his throat.<\/p>\n

“Who… what the hell are you?” he wheezed, his face turning a mottled purple.<\/p>\n

“I\u2019m the person who\u2019s been watching you for six months,” I said, reaching into my tactical vest and pulling out a small, encrypted drive\u2014not the one I used for intel reports, but the one that held the record of his sins.<\/p>\n

This was the twist: Harwick wasn’t just a bully. My investigation into the Phantom Division\u2019s leads had uncovered something much darker. He wasn’t just “disciplining” recruits; he was running a black-market logistics ring, diverting millions in military hardware to cartels across the border, using the fear he instilled in his subordinates to keep them silent. The “abuse” was a smoke screen, a way to weed out anyone with a conscience before they could see the trucks leaving the back gate at 3:00 AM.<\/p>\n

“You’re a traitor, Thaddius,” I said, the words falling like lead. “And I have the manifests. I have the offshore account numbers. I have everything.”<\/p>\n

Harwick\u2019s fear momentarily shifted back to rage. He realized he was ruined, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He let out a gutteral roar and reached for the sidearm holstered at his hip. My hand went for my own concealed piece, but before a shot could be fired, the sirens began to wail across the base.<\/p>\n

Black SUVs\u2014unmarked and tinted\u2014began screaming through the main gate, kicking up plumes of red sand. These weren’t MPs. These were my people. But as they screeched to a halt, a realization hit me like a physical blow. The lead vehicle didn’t stop at Harwick. It circled behind me.<\/p>\n

Out of the passenger side stepped Colonel Miller, my direct handler from the Phantom Division\u2014the man who had sent me here. He didn’t look at Harwick with disgust. He looked at him with a nod of recognition.<\/p>\n

“Arya,” Miller said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Hand over the drive. You’ve gone off-script. The General is part of a larger operation\u2014one you aren’t cleared for.”<\/p>\n

The world tilted. The cancer wasn’t just Harwick; it had metastasized into the very unit I called home. I was standing in the middle of a desert, caught between a corrupt general and a betrayed agency, holding the only evidence that could burn them all down. I looked at Zara, who was still bleeding on the ground, and I knew I couldn’t just hand it over. I was a ghost, but I still had a soul.<\/p>\n

“I don’t think so, Colonel,” I said, backing toward a running transport humvee.<\/p>\n

“Don’t be a hero, Thorne,” Miller warned, his hand resting on his weapon. “You know how this ends for people who try to play the martyr.”<\/p>\n

“It ends with the truth,” I replied, and dived into the driver’s seat just as the first volley of gunfire erupted, shattering the windshield.<\/p>\n

If you’ve read this far, don’t hesitate to leave a like and comment before reading part 3. It makes us as happy as reading a complete story! Thank you. \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n

\n

PART 3<\/b><\/h3>\n

The engine roared to life, a mechanical scream that mirrored the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Bullets peppered the armor plating of the Humvee as I floored it, fishtailing through the gravel and sending a cloud of dust into the faces of Miller\u2019s extraction team. I wasn’t just running for my life; I was running for the lives of every soldier Harwick had broken and every citizen Miller had betrayed.<\/p>\n

I took the back ridge road, a narrow, treacherous path that hugged the cliffs overlooking the valley. In my rearview mirror, three black SUVs were gaining ground. Miller knew my driving patterns; he\u2019d trained me. He knew I\u2019d try to reach the communications array on the north peak to broadcast the files. He was moving to cut me off.<\/p>\n

I grabbed my radio, switching to the open base frequency. “This is Specialist Arya Thorne to all Fort Meridian personnel. Look at the data streaming to your HUDs right now. Look at the man you call General.”<\/p>\n

Using the Humvee\u2019s onboard computer, I initiated a burst-upload of the first three files\u2014the shipping manifests signed by Harwick and the wire transfer logs to Miller\u2019s private security firm. Across the base, in the barracks, the mess hall, and the command center, thousands of tablets and monitors flickered to life. The truth was out, but the danger was just beginning.<\/p>\n

A precision shot from Miller\u2019s lead vehicle blew my rear left tire. The Humvee lurched violently, skidding toward the edge of the ravine. I wrestled the wheel, the metal rim grinding against the asphalt with a shower of sparks, and managed to slam the vehicle into a rocky outcropping, using the impact to stop the roll.<\/p>\n

I crawled out of the wreckage, the drive clutched in my hand, as the SUVs pulled up, flanking me. Miller stepped out, looking disappointed. Harwick was there too, having hitched a ride, his face twisted with a desperate, pathetic hunger for revenge.<\/p>\n

“It\u2019s over, Arya,” Miller said, the desert wind whipping his coat. “The base is on lockdown. No one is coming to help you. You’re just a girl in the dirt again.”<\/p>\n

“I may be in the dirt,” I said, coughing out a lungful of smoke, “but I’m not alone.”<\/p>\n

Behind them, a low rumble began\u2014a sound deeper than any SUV engine. From the direction of the main barracks, a column of tanks and transport trucks appeared, led by the very soldiers Harwick had spent years trying to crush. At the front, standing in the turret of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle, was Zara Kellins. She held a bandage to her head, but her eyes were fixed on the General with a cold, hard clarity.<\/p>\n

The soldiers of Fort Meridian hadn’t stayed in lockdown. They had seen the files. They had seen the betrayal of their oath. Thousands of men and women in uniform began to surround the clearing, their weapons trained not on me, but on Miller and Harwick.<\/p>\n

“Lower your weapons,” Zara\u2019s voice came over the Bradley\u2019s loudspeaker. “By order of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, General Harwick and Colonel Miller are under arrest for treason.”<\/p>\n

Miller looked around, realizing the tide had turned. Even the Phantom Division\u2019s elite couldn’t take on an entire mechanized infantry division. He slowly raised his hands. Harwick, ever the coward, fell to his knees, sobbing about his “service” and his “sacrifices.”<\/p>\n

I stood up, wiping the blood from my brow. I walked over to Harwick, tossed the drive onto his lap, and looked him in the eye. “You called me a weak bitch, Thaddius. But it wasn’t my muscles that beat you. It was the fact that I remembered why we wear this uniform. You forgot.”<\/p>\n

The cleanup took months. Fort Meridian was purged of its corruption, and the Phantom Division was dismantled and rebuilt under new, transparent leadership. I was offered a promotion, a medal, and a seat at the Pentagon. I turned them all down.<\/p>\n

I stayed at Fort Meridian for a while, watching Zara Kellins graduate at the top of her class. On her graduation day, she found me by the old training grounds.<\/p>\n

“Where are you going now, Arya?” she asked.<\/p>\n

I looked out at the horizon, where the Arizona sun was setting in a blaze of orange and purple. “To find the next ghost,” I said with a smile. “Because as long as there are people who think they\u2019re above the law, someone needs to be in the shadows, waiting.”<\/p>\n

I walked away, a small woman in a large world, no longer a desk analyst, no longer just a phantom. I was a reminder that the most powerful weapon in the American arsenal isn’t a missile or a tank\u2014it\u2019s the truth.<\/p>\n

What do you think of this story? Please leave a like and share your thoughts in the comments. Your support means a lot to us and inspires us to keep writing more meaningful and powerful stories. Thank you! \ud83d\udc4d\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The metallic tang of blood and Arizona dust filled my mouth as I stared at the dirt, my vision blurring. A heavy combat boot pressed into my side, and I felt a rib snap\u2014a sharp, white-hot flash of agony that would have sent any other “desk analyst” into shock. “Get up, Thorne! Or did all […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":56270,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-56269","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-purpose"],"yoast_head":"\nThey all laughed at me, the "weak desk girl" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"They all laughed at me, the "weak desk girl" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The metallic tang of blood and Arizona dust filled my mouth as I stared at the dirt, my vision blurring. A heavy combat boot pressed into my side, and I felt a rib snap\u2014a sharp, white-hot flash of agony that would have sent any other “desk analyst” into shock. “Get up, Thorne! Or did all […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Purposeful Days\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2026-05-05T03:21:40+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"1000\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Living Living\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Living Living\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"10 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269\",\"name\":\"They all laughed at me, the \\\"weak desk girl\\\" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2026-05-05T03:21:40+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9\"},\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg\",\"width\":1000,\"height\":1000},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"They all laughed at me, the “weak desk girl” of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn’t just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy.\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/\",\"name\":\"Purposeful Days\",\"description\":\"\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9\",\"name\":\"Living Living\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Living Living\"},\"sameAs\":[\"http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\"],\"url\":\"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=6\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"They all laughed at me, the \"weak desk girl\" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"They all laughed at me, the \"weak desk girl\" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days","og_description":"The metallic tang of blood and Arizona dust filled my mouth as I stared at the dirt, my vision blurring. A heavy combat boot pressed into my side, and I felt a rib snap\u2014a sharp, white-hot flash of agony that would have sent any other “desk analyst” into shock. “Get up, Thorne! Or did all […]","og_url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269","og_site_name":"Purposeful Days","article_published_time":"2026-05-05T03:21:40+00:00","og_image":[{"width":1000,"height":1000,"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Living Living","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Living Living","Est. reading time":"10 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269","name":"They all laughed at me, the \"weak desk girl\" of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn't just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy. - Purposeful Days","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg","datePublished":"2026-05-05T03:21:40+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/image_2026-05-05_102125048.jpg","width":1000,"height":1000},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?p=56269#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"They all laughed at me, the “weak desk girl” of Fort Meridian, until a corrupt General pushed a recruit too far. I didn’t just break his ribs in three seconds; I dismantled his entire criminal empire, and now he\u2019s the one begging for mercy."}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/","name":"Purposeful Days","description":"","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/20d1a35f34b553b23a87ba63faf9d0e9","name":"Living Living","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/e958d6b1a20621af29884638fd23481fe90a0b0c5acccdd88aa5bc497e9ab608?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Living Living"},"sameAs":["http:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org"],"url":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/?author=6"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56269","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=56269"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56269\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56271,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/56269\/revisions\/56271"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/56270"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=56269"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=56269"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/purpose.lifestruepurpose.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=56269"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}