The bag looked worryingly similar to one his grandmother always carried. As a child, he found it odd that she carried a bag with neither strap nor handle. It seemed inconvenient. His grandmother, he recalled, called it a clutch bag. “What’s this?” Luke asked.
“It’s your bag.” he’s bluntly told. The receptionist rolled her eyes. “You’ll find everything you need inside.”
Luke peered inside the little bag and instantly recognized one of several items. “Lipstick?!” he gulped. “You do know I’m a guy, don’t you?” he somewhat sarcastically asked.
“I’m aware of that fact Luke.” the receptionist dryly replied. She slid a badge over the counter which stated his name written in large clear letters: