Shopping

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Shopping

She was shopping. Absent mindedly running her hand over the racks of clothing; occasionally checking a size or a price tag; the girl's eyes were hungry for something new. There wasn't any particular reason to browse, nothing had caught her eye in the window. But her yearning had only intensified as she wandered through the mall and passed shop after shop.

In the pajama section, the soft cotton and fuzzily trimmed pants and robes bounced under hand. Plush pillows lay across rickety and cheap plastic shelves, their furry coatings smooth to her touch. The coziness drew her in to stopping frequently to sit or feel a display bed. To the store clerks she was one of those touch everything and buy nothing customers; to herself, a kid in a candy store.

Her sweet tooth wasn't satisfied with just one department though. She continued her winding path into the hanging gardens of underwear. Silk, lace, and cotton arches hung from the racks. With a variety of colors and styles to choose from, she began prodded each one as she passed by. Running her hand along the straps she gauged her interest on wiring and shelving. Only the most comfortable of each section slowed her step.

The matching sets behind her, the akimbo postured mannequins loomed above. Their empty faces half covered by hats or missing entirely, she ignored their mimicry of life and focused on their outfits. The lean and tight jeans, the flares bells of retro chiq, each garment draped perfectly across the plastic. Experience gave her the edge, noting the styles which worked on her build she veered into those sections and ignored the rest.

The pants and leggings didn't keep her attention long. She had the basics in her closet already after all. But as she came to the edge of the denim racks her eyes spotted her temptation. Dresses. Waking from her ambling pace, she made a beeline straight to the wall. Delicately hanging from the rods extending from the wall, each sleek garment was seduction on touch.

Her hands ran their course over the fabric. Tracing the seams and dancing across decorations, their last stop always the price tag. It's small and neatly printed horror the only thing preventing her from expanding her collection. Her typically frugal purse felt heavy the longer she looked. Lip bitten, she anxiously paced between her favorites. The blue A-line? The wine sweater dress? She lingered, hands feeling the fabric on a grey asymmetrical gown. It's silken material flowing like water over her hands. The long cut out came up to her mid-thigh, its risque appeal keeping her eyes dazed as she imagined dancing and twirling in it.

Shaking her head, she smiled sadly and began moving towards the stores exit. If she could feel the dispassionate and irritated stare from the clerks she didn't show it; casually waving goodbye to them just so could get a last glimpse of the dresses in the glass window. Her grand tour done, she zipped up her coat and pulled on a ragged yarn hat. The next race from the warm corridors of the mall to the frigid concrete streets had just begun.

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