05/12/16 Doris

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“Now, where is that bag?” Doris spoke aloud to no one, as she often did these days. “I know it’s here somewhere.” She’d splurged on the elegant Souré bag for her eldest child’s high-school graduation in 1958 and had carried it to watch all four of her kids walk across the stage – and they’d all turned out just great. Susan married a doctor, Becky had her own career as a nurse, Timmy was a successful architect, and David had a thriving dental practice. Doris didn’t consider herself superstitious, not really, but a little mojo couldn’t hurt for her oldest grandson, Michael, who’d graduate tomorrow night and head to the big city to try to make it in a big-hair band, whatever that meant. He wouldn’t even consider college though he’d been accepted to four! But Doris loved the little stinker and – “Oh, here you are! Just as pretty as ever. Now, I wonder how you smell after 25 years?” Doris snapped open her golden bag and was pleased to see that she’d left a cologne-scented floral handkerchief inside. “Perfect! And what’s this? Oh, my, Blackjack gum. I haven’t seen that in years.”

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