Once upon a time lived a zebra-striped sequins purse.
Her name was Pursey Galore and she was owned by a gal named Lori.
Lori had an idea to send her purse into the world. And with each person allowed to hold Pursey for their own sweet, short while companies made a donation to the American Stroke Association.
And thus Pursey was sent into the world by the kind Lori to fight the evil strokes.
Then Pursey attended a blogging boot camp in Philadelphia, and she met a gal named Megan.
Somewhat tacky? Shiny? Used to drawing weird glances and uncomfortable stares? The two hit it off immediately.
When the time of parting came Megan knew that all was not lost – her time with Pursey would begin anew when it was her weekend to host.
Days and months and weeks went by, until that blessed day arrived.
And lo, into the mailbox came a purse.
Pursey and Megan rejoiced at their regained love.
They went on a date to the movies where Pursey learned the true origins of Facebook, reminisced about college and felt terribly sad for a billionaire.
They held a photo shoot on the steps of the Old Post Office in D.C., completely unconcerned about the groups of strangers staring in gentle mockery.
At least they told themselves it was gentle.
They dug an old prom dress out of a closet and danced in a bathroom, reviling in their shared love of reflections and imaginary music.
Finally, they said goodbye, knowing that Pursey had other people to meet and places to visit and they would never have their happily ever after.
Tragic purse prose
Am I right?