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Her desk contains a closed white laptop and books piled on top of one an-
other. A small circular mirror sits on the far right corner in a basket filled with
facial and hair products, which she seldom uses now. An open box of soap sits
beside a small desk fan. She rubs this along the runner between the window glass
and the screen so it is easier for her to open and close. It gets hot in her apart-
ment, regardless of what the weather is like outside. Across from her bed there is
a bookcase filled with neatly filed books and cleaning supplies and anything else
she couldn’t find a spot for. Her father found the case for her in someone’s trash
a few years ago.
Lacey digs through her belongings for a shoe box. She is sure she brought
home a few the other day; she just can’t seem to locate them. Sometimes at night
she’ll search through the garbages of big department stores like Burlington Coat
Factory and Filene’s Basement for the sole benefit of shoe boxes. Now, she just
can’t remember where she put them.
In the linen closet beside the bathroom there are shoe boxes piled atop one
another over spearment striped towels. She grabs the one that reads “Kangaroo”
and happily shuts the door. It is long and narrow and will proudly serve as a new
home for the bird.
Lacey returns to the dead starling. It still lies huddled between the newspa-
per on the kitchen table, next to the bananas. Lacey carefully unravels the bird
from its blotchy blackinked paper home. She runs to her desk and from the top
drawer she removes a bottle of nail polish. Lacey hardly uses polish anymore,
so she is pleased to have somebody else to put it to use on. She paints the bird’s
talons fuchsia because the name “starling” reminds her of bright glowing colors.
The bird, as she imagines, lies perfectly still.
“What a good girl!” Lacey says, not particularly sure her dead friend is fe-
male. “I can’t wait to introduce you to the others!”
Lacey then returns to her bedroom and falls to her hands
and knees. From beneath her bed, she pulls out a plastic
storage case. Inside there are stacks of brightly decorated
and colorful fabrics, old lacy clothing and curtains and ta-
blecloths that she has no use for anymore. She pulls out a
ruffled piece of cloth, an old window curtain with tiny straw-
berries dotted across the bone-white fabric. She heads to her
bookcase and removes a circular, blue tin once used to hold
butter cookies. She brings the fabric and tin to the table. The tin
contains needles and string and scissors to assist her with
“Sometimes at night she’ll search through
her task. She places the curtain on the table, and without any
markings or measurements, she begins cutting out a small
the garbages of big department stores like
disc of cloth. Once it has been extracted from the curtain, she
Burlington Coat Factory and Filene’s Base-
strings a needle and begins to sew. In a few moments she
has turned an old curtain into a tiny, beautiful bonnet. She
ment for the sole benefit of shoe boxes.” places the bonnet on the bird’s head and shrieks in delight.
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