pearls

When the golden crown studded with diamonds and pearls is placed on the head of the new Miss Universe in Thailand on Friday, it will mark the end of an exceptionally chaotic edition.

I straightened my pearls, brushed the front of my skirt to make sure it was neat, squared my shoulders, and walked up the steps.

Years later, black pearls of petroleum rained down on Wilmington the day the oil refinery exploded.

Silver pearls glisten on the men’s foreheads and their eyes are sunken deep in their pale faces, framed in a stubble of beard.

As if anyone but the Trumps — or the billionaires donating to his project — can afford pearls at this point.