Excerpt: 100 Lives (condensed)

Face it. She was born trailer trash. Kitsch city. No kind of learning ever interested her. From high school on she dressed like a prostitute, but was really quite selective in who she went to bed with. If it was shiny, red, yellow or soft to the touch, it was part of her wardrobe. Shoes were her passion, a passion she supported by her job as a welder. She aged gracefully, and assiduously avoided acquiring any taste. She died on her own terms in her own home. Shortly before she died, she allowed St. Vincent de Paul to pillage her house for anything they could use.