In the spring of 2009, Vodnie, a friend and former LanguageCorps student of ours, stopped by the house on her motorbike. She was leaving in two days to study abroad in Australia and wanted to drop something off to leave in our care while she was away. Walking up the stairs, she held a plastic red cup, the sort arranged in V-formation on a table at any collegiate function, and covered the top with her hand. Then, outside Kate’s room, kneeling down, she freed the opening and gently tipped the cup to reveal its content. I remember I was first struck by his hue, an overwhelming green, all sorts and shades, so many greens, with two wicked orange stripes running behind each eye. And his size, or, lack thereof. No more the width of one’s palm,
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