piling up my pearls

That same night, I wrote my first short story. It took me thirty minutes. It was a dark little tale about a man who found a magic cup and learned that if he wept into the cup, his tears turned into pearls. But even though he had always been poor, he was a happy man and rarely shed a tear. So he found ways to make himself sad so that his tears could make him rich. As the pearls piled up, so did his greed grow. The story ended with the man sitting on a mountain of pearls, knife in hand, weeping helplessly into the cup with his beloved wife’s slain body in his arms.

~ Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

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Despite sticking up to a minimalist and a monochrome wardrobe mantra, for the past two weeks I have been hauling home almost a dozen vintage button-up shirts. The psychedelic floral, the polka dots, the skinny fit, the union made, the pointed or peter pan collars, they were all calling my name. That dozen doesn’t include the button-up shirts that I score from JCrew and Gap clearance rack. This year I am all about button-ups.

..Oh Father please forgive me for I have been ‘piling up my pearls and the greed grows’.

Linking up to the Nifty Thrifty Party.

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