By Brian Druckenmiller
The uncle jerry-rigs a leash for Walter, his hamster, using fishing line and the rubber band bracelet his niece wove for him a month before she drowned. The bands have begun to wither, some singeing away like slow dynamite fuses, and the colors have dulled—even the once vibrant teal, his niece’s favorite.
“Teal is my favorite, too,” he remembers saying as she sat cross-legged on her bedroom carpet, alive, fashioning a fishtailed bracelet with her rubber band loom. Using a long plastic hook like a dental tool, she pulled teal on top of black on top of gold on top of teal. Continue reading