I used to break out in hives at the entrance to each of these establishments. My haunts are bookstores, hardware stores and libraries.
So, when I hunch over; when my eyes narrow into a thin, suspicious squint; when I ball up my fists in my packet and enter these places, I feel like a criminal or a social pariah. Alien in strange land!
I have no good explanation for the emotional response. And, let me tell you , the new persona does NOT inhibit my parting with hard-earned cash as I exit with goodies!
1) Something called"findings". I knew them only from literature. Now I have my very own personal stash. For what, I know not.
But, just look at that bag of them! Perhaps I am morphing with each tatted picot into a RAVEN!
~Aspiring Adept of TATROMANCY (magical meanderings with rings, chains and picots) ~