I sit in my stiff satin slip dress, tracing the ridges of my plastic Pogs; these tiny circles are the artifacts of a crumbling financial era, much like the headlines of Salomon’s losses. The air is thick with anticipation for Windows 95 and the sleek promise of the DVD format, yet I’m tethered to the present by the scratchy wool of my knee-high socks.
I watch my brother trade collectibles on that new eBay site while humming TLC's "Creep," marveling at how Java is quietly rewriting our digital DNA. When he finally wins a rare slammer, he shouts a triumphant "boo-ya," a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet rustle of my plaid skirt.
Memories from that day
No memories yet. Add yours if you remember this day.