From the day
Perspective: The Future Historian · Tactile
The July humidity clings to my beaded silk dress, making the rayon lining itch against my skin as I pass the shop window. Inside, a plush Raggedy Andy sits stiffly on the shelf, his coarse yarn hair and cotton limbs representing a tactile stability that the shifting borders of Poland and the Soviet West currently lack. I absentmindedly hum "Whispering" by John Schonberger, the melody drifting through the stagnant air like the softest gossip. Any girl can be a sheba in these drop-waisted silhouettes, but even the finest T-strap heels feel heavy as we wait for the wireless to pulse with news of a truce.