I stole a bag of photos of a girl once.
They were for sale, and I didn't like that.
So I took them.
She needed love, she needed to be remembered.
I was going to try,
try to make up for all my other failures by knowing that girl.
Her name is Gloria, she was 6 in 1952.
She took a photo in 1966 and I haven't seen her since.
I have met her parents, her friends, her cat.
We have been on vacation, and spent Christmas morning together.
We go on elaborate adventures and watch little girls cry.
That is Gloria on the left, our friend Monica on the right.
We were gypsy thieves for Hallowe'en in 1957.
We watched Audrey Hepburn movies and drank Milkshakes all afternoon that day.
Then Mrs. Lorraine gave us candy apples and told us not to talk to strangers.
Gloria's bag ripped and Monica tripped over her too-long dress.
We looked even more like gypsies when we came home.
Monica said that Gloria stole all her orange suckers
(it was really her brother Matty).
Gloria and I never heard from her again.
There were twenty-three photos in all.
I gave two away, they needed something I couldn't give them.
Gloria is a good friend of mine, the best you may say.