by association (photo 99)
At one point, she had recovered a sense of fashion, something ranging from the '50s through the '70s. She had enjoyed hats and handbags. She had ridden her Schwinn cruiser. She dressed up for church.
She still enjoyed scarves and broaches and would occasionally grab a hand bag, but the latter felt a little forced, as if she were accommodating a version of herself that didn't quite fit anymore. For this reason, the cruiser had sat on the porch for months now without any exercise. And she'd taken to wearing her Northface coat over her Goodwill furs.
Earrings were in. Her collection was meager (she coveted Beth's), but it sharpened her an eye, gave her something to seek. Truth be told, she would wear nail polish regularly if it didn't require due diligence. Sadly, making the time for removing and reapplying polish never made it to her priority list.
She definitely felt suspended, in between versions of her self. And she couldn't yet approach the thought of giving away the hats, the coats, the cruiser. She sensed they still made up a part of her and might one day play a role again.
The dog had observed these reflections without much to say.