#outrageousspectacle

She glanced at Evelyn sidelong, tentatively, and murmured without the confidence the words called for, "Sure I dress for my enjoyment... I mean, fashion isn't supposed to be comfortable. It takes effort to look good. ... What's so wrong if I want my guy to think I'm pretty?"

Lily had been leaning over the fence a little too closely, admiring the array of different plants and flowers (some of which she’d never even seen before). The lady stepping out of the quaint little house the garden belonged to broke her reverie, but made her all the more curious. “Is it yours?”

nevertheless, dolores folds her hands and eagerly nods at @outrageous-spectacle.   “go ahead! open it!”   inside waits a spiral diary that hasn’t seen the light of day in eighty years. its pages are as thick with dust as the rest of the package, but once upon a time it had boasted of being laced with a rose perfume. long ago, dolores intended to journal her travels from minnesota to california, but its pages remain barren.

—   “i think the line between the two is a lot more blurred than people give it credit for,”  as if to emphasis her own point, amira is reapplying powder to her nose. she casts janet a backwards glance from the mirror,  “although, i do still think there’s a line ...”  and poor miss janet is toeing it  awfully close.  “what are you concerned about?”  soft puff is snapped back in amira’s compact, which is tucked away in her handbag. she turns a good one twenty degrees and crosses one of her legs over the other.  “go on, you can tell me! i’m good at keeping a secret.”

                    god   ,   it’s   been   so   long   since   she’s   had   a   good   ole   fashioned   girls   night .     they’ve   got   some   wine   ,   some   weed   ,   some   nail   polish   ,   and   a   whole   lot   of   gossip   to   ramble   on   and   on   about   for   hours .     anna-maria   is   glad   that   this   is   happening   ,   even   if   she   finds   it   difficult   to   sit   still   long   enough   for   jaime   to   get   the   nail   painting   job   done .     she’s   always   had   a   problem   with   sitting   in   one   place   for   too   long   ,   she’s   always   got   to   move .     so   ,   right   now   ,   she’s   just   wiggling   her   toes   to   appease   her   body’s   need   for   constant   motion   and   trying   not   to   talk   with   her   hands .     that   happens   a   lot   when   she   drinks   ,    ❛   you   should   be   a   nail   stylist   ,   you   know .     these   are   coming   out   really   pretty .   ❜

“Oh, hi there!” At the sound of the front door bell, Audrey snaps up from her dozing lean over the shop counter. Maybe the extra little bit of enthusiasm will conceal how idle she’s been — and by extension, by empty Mushnik’s has been. Customers are desperately rare, so she can’t afford to drive one away with bad service... “Anything I can help you find, miss? Special occasion you’re shoppin’ for?”

“Isn’t it? I love the pie crust,” Olive grinned. “It really helps the place stand out from anywhere else.”

I feel like naturally, she would be traumatized, but as trite and cliche as it sounds, also grateful because a part of her feels like she never would have known just how strong she could be had she never come to Tanz. She goes on with her life a little more guarded, but a little more confident at the same time.