M. Place
| Location | CA, United States |
|---|---|
| Introduction | It seemed a waste, all those tears. Little parts of herself she was losing. So she threaded a needle for the first time, filled a green sock with peanut shells, sewed the end shut, gave it two sand dollars for eyes, and called it her spicy pepper. She wiped her face and called it a container for her tears. It couldn’t have been a more perfect fit for the hollow of her arm. She never slept without it. |

