We can’t have spoiled food sitting in a warm trunk.”

That sounded less romantic than a speech in court.

It also sounded like something that might keep people fed.

Before leaving, I walked past the aisle where Clarence had taken the crayons.

A little girl was choosing a notebook with her father.

She placed the cheaper one back, and he quietly told her she could have the one with the stars.

I looked at the shelves and understood that the market mattered too.