The store was not at all what Gwen had imagined it would be. It was just the size of a living room, brightly lit and empty except for three round clothing racks in the middle of the floor and a shoe display by the windows. No velvet drapes, beaded curtains or red lights. Just a couple of tasteful landscape prints and a vase of purple and red tulips at the counter. “You Should Be Dancing” was lettered on the store’s window, and the setting sun cast shadows of the words against the back wall. A young woman, late-twenties and about Gwen’s age with fantastic asymmetrical hair stood among the racks. Gwen was about to say hello when an old woman walked in from a back room and, spying Gwen, laughed hard and high, revealing a handful of teeth randomly attached to her dark gums. “I knew it! I knew it! It took you long enough, but I knew you’d come.”
The bell on the door echoed the woman’s laugh, continuing to announce Gwen’s arrival long after the door had closed behind her. Though she knew the old woman must be speaking to her, Gwen could not account for her powers of premonition. She looked to the younger woman for explanation.
“We’ve watched you eyeing those boots every day. Gramma said you’d come in eventually. I wasn’t so sure. They’re hot, aren’t they? What’s your size?”
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