Most days Jeannie wore the same outfit. Two summers ago, it was a denim skirt with cowboy boots and a denim jacket. It could be ninety degrees outside, but there she’d be, decked out in the denim outfit, walking around the neighborhood looking like a crazy person.

She’d tease her blonde hair, 60’s style, to the point it looked like a storks nest. It was big and wild looking. And she was always talking on her phone, although one day, it finally occurred to me she was never actually talking to a soul.

It was all an act.

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