She lifted the photo frame. Handcrafted, it made for the perfect souvenir. She was about to set it in her suitcase when she heard an unintended shuffle. Puzzled, she shook the frame forcefully. It was as if the hollows of the wooden frame were filled with sand.
On impulse, she smashed the frame against the edge of the dresser. The frame broke into two and crystalline, white powder smattered on the surface of the polished floor. Nervously, she swept the contents and disposed them in the commode.
It was time to leave this godforsaken country.
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