For quite a few years, I knew that the tiny box sent me each birthday and Christmas by my brother's wife would contain my new favorite earrings. Ann frequented museum gift shops such as the one at Atlanta's High Museum and unique boutiques with names like "Transitor Sister" where old radio parts became jewelry.
About five years ago, I stopped wearing those treasures after Ann broke my brother's heart, announcing one day that she was leaving him for his best friend. I found myself eying those earrings with fury. I left them dangling on my racks: wearing them would be disloyal. After a while, my brother fell in love and remarried. He adores his lovely, creative wife, and she adores him back.
The circle is round like tonight's full moon, but as dark as a new moon's night.