The Glass Currency
The Glass Currency The LIRR smelled of old vinyl and people who had given up on the morning. Maya Chen stood in the aisle between Flushing and Jamaica, her canvas bag slung over her shoulder, and watched the passengers file in. "Ribbons? Hair clips?" she called. "Handmade." Most people ignored her. The regulars were different -- a shop girl from Flushing who bought three clips every week, an...
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