It was an overcast but unseasonably warm late December afternoon when you and I trolled the aisles of my local Midwestern Target...
You were in town for a New Years party. We were searching for a bottle of soy-based non-dairy creamer for your morning coffee. Up and down the refrigerator cases we ambled, separately, with me pausing at whatever Target's latest melamine offering was on display.
Here is what I only half-remember: who saw them first. That's right, I said them. (And also, I think I reached for my phone to urgently find you and the aisle you occupied.)
Why? Because there was more than one microcephalic Somali female adolescent shuffling past me. They were wearing matching pink jumpsuits. Only one dragged behind her a small wooden pull toy. Could've been duck or dog, really. I had trouble catching my breath.
So, there it is. It was what it was. Suddenly, a David Lynch miniseries.
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