Deep PocketsDeep Pockets
“Hey, honey, look at these!”
Gary turned away from the display of vintage postcards he’d been admiring and sought out his wife. A flash of red hair led him in the right direction, and he found her two stalls over. She was holding up what looked like a shallow cloth bag, perhaps three inches across and no more than that deep.
“It’s a bag, Leona. So?”
Leona put her hand into it, and pulled out her purse. It was the sort of purse that you could store phone-books in, and Gary was convinced that it was lead-lined due to the weight. The neck of the bag stretched a little as the purse emerged from it, then snapped back to its original size.
“They’re selling bags of holding? Real ones? How much?”
The cheerful woman behind the table named a price that made Gary hesitate, it was their entire flea-market budget for the whole day. Leona saw that look, and got an impish one of her own.
So Your Son Wants A Pet?(A Fox Serum Story)
As always, Lisa Grant was the first person up in her busy household. Groggily, she arose when the alarm went off and she trudged into the kitchen in her bathrobe. Pulling a paper bag from where she had stashed it in the cabinet, she removed one of the vials it contained and placed it on the counter. Then she replaced the bag back in its hiding place for future use.
Still not quite awake, she took a glass from the cabinet and emptied the vial into it. She poured some juice over the liquid, and was about to drink it when a yell from upstairs stopped her.
“Mom! Where's my bra? I can't find it anywhere! I'm gonna miss my bus!”
Instead of screaming up to her twelfth-grade daughter and waking up her husband and son, she placed down the juice and ran upstairs to find the girl sorting through the mess that was her room. “Tonya,
“Everything alright, Mr. Walters?”
“Oh yeah... she's fine. Just fainted in the park.”
“Are you sure? She looks so pale...”
Chuckling rung over my head. “I'm afraid that's just her color.” Another laugh. “Don't worry, she'll come to soon.”
“And you said she fainted in the park?”
“Oh man... the poor thing. Is she not used to seeing giants?”
“She's more used to it than many.”
I blinked several times as the voices continued to talk over my head. I didn't recognize the one at all... but the other one... the male.
“I'll make a fresh batch of coffee for when she wakes up,” the female said again.
“That would be great, Viv. She's probably going to need it.”
The woman giggled. “You're such a gentleman, Mr. Walters.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Luke?&
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