Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Her purse was small - almost too small for all the things she regularly stuffed into it - her keys, her wallet, her datebook, her lipstick. Despite the glossy finish, the material was fake - a poorly done alligator skin. The color, a faded green, reminded me of pea soup, the kind with chunks of ham floating in it like pink islands. She carried the purse with her everywhere, even onto the plane that day when she couldn't afford to bring any money with her.

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