Inside the Yellow Dress (1)
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         —It got worse and worse until I couldn’t put two words together: for
example, pony tail, each part rearing up, wanting to be the main thing. But
the main thing was the ribbon, which I wanted but didn’t mention for fear of
angering the other words. Also the scissors, which lay on the dresser,
admiring themselves in the mirror. I better not became my theme. As in
childhood, when I was easily bribed by a little candy: the slightest nod or
lemon drop.