I didn’t trust the ones smuggled for us purportedly from the forests of Europe, weathered, desiccated flesh, and in what soil exactly had these grown and who plucked them . . .
The aisles were carpeted in oyster-gray, with deep blue edging, and they sold a damn good wild-rice soup. One service that they offered free of charge: they’d snap your headshot, print it on a card for you to keep