From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
Gadzooks, my fingers are raw from scrubbing this heavy wool frock, yet I still worry if we’ll have enough for the week. I gripped my last nickel tight at the bakery today, lamenting that a single loaf of bread now costs $0.05 while the President's train rattles toward us with uncertain news. The metal of the boy’s new Meccano set feels cold and sharp against my palms, a luxury we shouldn't have bought with the papers screaming of unrest. I can hear "Blaze Away" drifting from a neighbor’s window, but the jaunty tune does little to soothe the shivering tension in my chest.