Quilters Who Really Care

by Amelia Noah

Emma Parks stood in line behind a bald, muscled man in a soiled pea coat, grey Dickies workpants, and worn Doc Marten boots in a dingy, crowded pawnshop on the Lower West Side of Manhattan. There were hints of eucalyptus, powdered eggs, and cod liver oil in his scent. He scowled at the lady in the cage, demanding more money for the orange chainsaw draped over his shoulder than she was willing to offer a chain saw? New York City?