Picture WindowCarolyn Guinzio
Looking out at their empty house from the car, they saw the matted backs of wigs propped on mops, horse-hair heads with a heavy and stuporous tilt. Wave goodbye to Auntie, Mother demanded from the passenger side, rouged and exuding believable joy. Her diamond-chip choker and mini-Instamatic were crammed in the cannister under the bags of tea.
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