Ficlets

The store

How do I know nothing will go wrong? I think to myself as I stride through the automanic, sliding doors. I immediately get blasted by the vaguely familiar air conditioner, the current pop ballad being “sung” in the overhead speakers, and the latest outfits on the clothes racket—jeans, pastel colors, goth makeup, this store had it all, but I didn’t exactly come here to shop.

I used to go to this building a lot as a preteen, actually, but ever since that day, that event, I vowed that I would never go back. I didn’t break that vow…until now.

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