Devonne Brown

Sherri had her daughter’s heart’s desire. Annie needed a beaded clutch purse to go with her formal dress for the prom, just big enough to hold her lipstick and her glasses. Styles go round and round, and she sure enough saved the pocket book she’d taken to her formal dance years ago. Truth be told, it was the same one Sherri’s mother had carried to her prom, Annie’s grandmother. It was called a cotillion when she used it. Classics never went out of style. 

Sherri kept it wrapped in dark blue tissue paper in the Christmas trunk in what was called the gallery. A space hung with family photographs, paintings, and art once used as a dining room, but now it connected the house proper to the sunroom, which became the shade room when the trees grew over and darkened it. The blue tissue paper preserved the white beads on the bag and the Christmas trunk transferred the smell of Frankincense to each little hand sewn bead as well as the satin lining. The gold clasp had only the slightest speck of rust on one hinge that belied its age. It still hid its long gold chain inside so it could be carried on a delicate shoulder or by a soft gloved hand. 

Sherri dug past the Groucho Santa glasses and red beads to find the blue paper packed for Annie. The purse hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and she was just a little nervous about letting her use it, but it was made for a good time, so why not? What purpose did it serve in its blue tissue paper and Frankincense coffin? She might hang it on the Christmas tree this winter, but that was months away from this glorious spring. Annie was responsible, she’d take care of it. 

Annie’s eyes lit up when Sherri gave her the bag with a Cinderella promise of returning the bag at midnight after the prom.