I'm at a small but full-serviced post office near my home. I'm at a tall table standing there getting letters ready. I mail the letters and a man comes in and puts a beautiful picture of a woman on the wall and a sign beside it as to how to mail and address a letter accurately. She is dressed in fairly tight violet or purple blouse that shows her contours, and a white linen skirt (?) ... and I adore her honey-brown hair and steady gaze. Suddenly, another man comes in and puts a "Give Blood" sign over the instruction sheet and her picture stays the same, and the blood bank honors Emma for many years of giving a rare B- blood. And then a second man comes in and places, on table beside me, a small steamer trunk with brass fittings that holds the vessels for the collected blood.