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They come in a variety of colors, patterns and sizes. The one I am currently using has two outside zippered compartments, and a main compartment, and a little inside one reached from the main one.They are not cheap, but I think they are worth the money.And you know that in the long journey ahead of you, when to keep awake against the camel’s swaying or the junk’s rocking, you start summoning up your memories one by one, your wolf will have become another wolf, your sister a different sister, your battles other battles, on your return from Euphemia, the city where memory is traded at every solstice and at every equinox. Ever since that thread, I've realized the annoyingly short lifespan of my purses/handbags/shoulderbags.Funny, I was just wondering whether anyone had used as the basis for a story a world where no-one can individually discriminate between dreamt and real events. An elaboration I don't think would work: everything you've dreamt is remembered as having happened on Dreamday, the eighth day of the week---this probably being influenced by the band name "Eleventh Dream Day". J: I know not; I visited no inn it could be bought. I have a bunch of them, but most of them were impulse buys because I liked the outward design, or gifts that are pretty and sturdy but have at least one fatal design flaw.They close by a variety of means, zippers and snaps and magnets.I prefer zippers, though they eventually wear out, but while they work, they work reliably.Memory is not the only coin the city accepts; he could buy Euphemia if he wished.The richest man is else a tinker so poor he begs on the streets for bread and fights the rats for rancid meat. Some, bitter, call him the stingiest man in the city, but he smiles more than anyone else.

The name 'Euphemia' reminds me irresistibly of Euphemia Williams a politician* from Westmoreland, Jamaica.

The merchant weighs your memory in his scales, bites it to test its purity; he is satisfied when it spits a few white puffs into the air.

They are carried on the currents through the bazaar where the people swirl in cloaks of red and yellow and blue, and disappear in the dust of a place where dandelions have never grown. you wonder, thinking this, and decide that it must be the name of this dark corridor where courtiers plot and whisper, or otherwise the explosion of light at the heart of the nebula.

She was notable for being the candidate the Jamaica Labour Party ran against P. Patterson, Jamaica's longest serving prime minister, which means that she only won once, in 1980, when his party, the People's National Party was swept from power decisively (he wasn't PM then, Michael Manley was). Leah @#5 I've been buying Le Sport Sac bags for some time.

Anyway, Euphemia sticks in my memory not only because she was a perennial loser, except that once, but because in her official party photograph she was shown giving her party sign, the Winstonian v-for-victory sign, backwards. They are nylon, and therefore light and durable and somewhat washable.

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