"Did You Just See That Coach Flaming Across The Mall Parking Lot?"
Once, during the brief time between parking my car and walking into a Cincinnati mall, my purse caught on fire. I smelled smoke, looked around me assuming someone’s car was overheating in the humid summer weather and instead noticed a black plume of smoke coming out of my usually calm brown Coach bag. I have to admit my shock as I stopped, dropped the expensive handbag, and attempted to roll it across the parking lot. I found that an overly dramatic and attention-seeking book of matches had miraculously lit themselves to start my most unusual purse fire.
I live in Detroit in a lovely “dysfunctional” bungalow with my husband, two sons, and beagle mutt. I grew up in a dysfunctional condo. Many remnants remain giving my life infinite texture and writing opportunities.