“Here, let me get it,” he says. “No, don’t bother.” Why is my voice coming out so squeaky? “That looks heavy.” “I’m a big girl,” I reply, hefting it by the handle. Then a few things happen at once. First, the car behind us honks, making me jump and the dog bark. Then the PA system starts blaring about parking in restricted areas. Lastly, as I lift the bag, I snag the edge of the door. This must have been just enough force to fray the ancient bag’s last will to live. I hear the fabric tear, and then all hell breaks loose. And by hell, I mean the contents of my bag. Yep, I stand there, mouth
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