A Woman Writes

My Clarice Cliff Cup

My mother and I had little in common. Still, I occasionally deigned to accompany her to an antique and collectible fair on a Sunday afternoon. She was a pretty creature whose style model was probably Grace Kelly circa 1955. My mother delighted in dainty ornaments, china dogs, plates decorated with trailing wisteria, and art nouveau Read more

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My Dead Tooth

The process of decay and loss began on a bright autumn day in 1981. I was standing in the queue...

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