my flash fictionnnnJanie spent her summers working at her aunt’s thrift shop, which was nothing but mothballs and musty clothes. She spent her sunny afternoons dealing with argumentative old ladies, who wanted too much money in exchange for faded overalls. It seemed like the same customers and the same days happened over and over.my flash fictionnnn
The bell hit the door as Janie looked up. A young woman entered, arms overflowing with pastel colors. Janie looked at the clock. Janie hated to sort through clothes right the end of the day.
“Welcome, to the Good as New Thrift Store,” she chanted, not thinking about her words
Herself
| i'm a ridiculous nothing girl |
puddles the bed wetting dog and other delights
Tired
--
Check out my flickr account!
Can you imagine if I actually spoke and typed like that? I don't think I could be around myself.
--
"Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything." -->Aaron Siskind
--
Join ~Stewart-Colbert ~LittleKuribohFans
grazie per il
--
My Twitter: [link] My Facebook: [link]
My Portfolio: [link]
Mi piacciono arte.
But I'm afraid I do not speak Italian well. I'm American~!
--
I've got 9 elephants...in my pants!
--
My Twitter: [link] My Facebook: [link]
My Portfolio: [link]
I'm more of a Spanish speaker myself
--
I've got 9 elephants...in my pants!
Previous Page12345...Next Page