When Henrietta Millet woke up every day, she never paid attention to small things like buttons. Or buttering her toast right side up. She’d walk around with her cardigan ascue and stare at her mom with her head slightly tilted, wondering what was so right about buttons lining up.
She kept her collection in a jar on a tiny stair in her closet. Her grandmother had worked in a garment factory and once every so often she would sneak a newly designed button into Henrietta’s jar with a kerplunk.
The thing with buttons is that they live very sneaky lives. One day they’re here. Another day they disappear. But most times you can find a good one when you need it most.