I bid farewell to my armless comrade in arms.
She was a stalwart if tipsy helper. Padded out, squeezed in, a little janky in the understructure. At the end she needed a lot of ballast, in the form of sandbags, just to keep upright.
But didn't she see a historical timeline!
Bustles, day and evening, corselets and petticoats, Turque(ish) jackets, Art Deco frocks and a few Gent's vests. She helped franken-pattern and was stuck with pins innumerable (which revenge was enacted by falling over on me). If I could, I'd set her alight in a boat, or give her coins for the ferryman. I'd array her with goods for the afterlife and mix up more funerary practices (maybe bury her in a large earthenware jug).
Now it's for the trash day recycle.
Amid the triumphs, whisper softly "Remember you are metal".
Ever Your Thimble Servant,
Miss Brilliantine
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