SEVENTY-THREE

Garland was looking for the perfect pattern. His couch was wearing away, and he needed a new design. He snapped a photo of the large woman outside the cafe. She glared at him.

“Plaid is big today.”He smiled at her, she didn’t return the sentiment.

“I didn’t say you could take a picture.”

“It’s for research.”

“What kind?”

“None of your business.” His new pattern would emulate her shirt. She would never know.

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