From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
The grit of the heavy worsted wool chafes against my neck as I hunch over the counter, nervously clutching a stuffed bear. Its mohair fur feels stiff and prickly under my thumb, a far cry from the soft, expensive silk waistcoats the men up the street are sporting these days. I can hear them outside boasting about their “bully” times, while I fret over the signs in the window. My stomach knots seeing it costs ten cents for a single gallon of gas; if prices keep climbing like that, I’ll have nothing left for a loaf of bread.