Book earrings

The package from my Baked Bean/Cassoulet friend had a MA return address. I opened. Besides postcards from Emily Dickinson’s museum there was a pair of earrings, two tiny books, with real paper pages perfect timing for that evening when I was going to do a reading from my novels for the English and Danes who know I write but have never had an opportunity to know my work.

It reminded me of the Phyllis Diller joke: The woman had the biggest earring I ever saw, bronzed baby shoes with the kid still in them.

I will definitely wear them to the meetings of the Geneva Writer's Group along with the pin that says WRITE.