From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
I grip my rough, beaded silk purse a little tighter as I eye the grocer; eleven cents for a single loaf of bread is enough to make a girl’s head spin. Between the sky falling on those poor observers in that dirigible and the price of everything rising, I’m half-convinced some city thug is trying to bump off my savings entirely. As I pass the shop window, the soft, wooly limbs of a Raggedy Andy doll look far more comforting than the scratchy rayon of my own stiff dress. I pull my cloche hat down low against the summer heat, wishing for a simpler time before everything became so dangerously expensive and loud.