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Chapter 3 Brownie Oxford and the Barren Woods Blunder

Word Count: 1757    |    Released on: 13/03/2018

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y after signing the lease so I had some place to sleep, her guidance at the various flea markets, thrift stores and antique type stores helped me furnish my apartment. Once the big items were purchased, refurbished and

Having a handle on retro pieces helped in my odd little sewing business. While the bulk of my clients tended to be drag queens like Ricky who needed everything from simple repairs

rmor slash corset looking thing to a shiny eyed steampunk enthusiast who practically skipped out of my apartment with joy

first dead I made friends with in the cemetery next to the Riverdale Girl's home and she took me under her wing. She also made certain I did m

a parent growing up. For most of the foster families where I was placed I was merely a source of revenue. With my jaundiced skin and s

nd one of the largest in the state. They closed up shop the day before Christmas and reopened a few weeks later. It was never one Cr

ack of one of the stalls near the entrance of the flea market, I decided it was a good place to start. In addition, the location possessed several non-clothing related advantages. While the rack was towards

tioned myself, I saw the expected sedan turn into the entrance and park. The driver exited

ly one left the vehicle. I hoped this didn't mean she was elsewhere doing something nefarious, especially something nefarious in my apartment. My biggest fear was that in addition to listening devices, th

tact lenses.' Having never purchased surveillance equipment I didn't know if color was an

o shred and much of the bead work fell away. Some of the pattern of the beadwork could be seen and as I divided my attention between

short stature helped as only the top of my head appeared above the rack. A slight bend in my knees and I disappeared completely without looking like I was trying to hide. He didn't see

, I found a tailored blazer I wanted. The color was an alarming shade of grayish green that reminded me of mold, but it had a shape I liked

e. I then moved on to the next stall. I was in my fourth stall and smiling over an unexpected find, when the brown haired man realized he passed me and doubled back. The find was a packet of vintage silk scarv

fabric was mine. I paid the owner and tried not to do a happy dance in front of her. With my small bag of previous purchase

red in black and white cow hide and the footstool was supported by steer horns turned points down so they could serve as legs. The chair likewis

y car to put my purchases in the back seat before continuing my shopping. Idly, I

ed the bolt of fabric on the seat, dropping my bag of vintage clothing into the floorboard. I closed the door and turned back t

I slowly sauntered back into the flea market. "Maybe dude means cowboy for some reason

e parking lot. The man saw me and was standing next to his car, a phone in his ear as he rela

ted a chest of drawers. "Darling you got to let me know, do I stay or

if I didn't start at the beginning I wouldn't be able to untangle it. I blushe

ething odd about the man. Not only was he wearing some sort of wide collared leisure suit, the kind favored by happening folks

der my breath. The

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