I found my soul in a thrift store.

You hear stories of tribes killing some great beast and using every piece of the beast, from the hide to the loin to the organ to the marrow swimming through its bones.

This was my grandmother.

Her name was Mitsuko Ijima. She grew up in Japan in a time when almost everyone was poor, a kind of poor she didn’t just feel in her pockets but in her stomach, a kind of poor she only…