Angel, along with her sister, runs a modest eatery not far from our apartment. We sometimes drop in for a stir fry or Stray’s omelet. When she’s not cooking, Angel can often be seen sitting behind large plastic tubs, big enough to bath a small child in, and pots.
You would be forgiven for thinking this was something one might find on a forest floor, or possibly stuck to the bottom of a shoe, because sometimes, it would be.
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