Pocketbook Women 소설 & 이야기

(Lena POV) The gravel bit into my knees as I pushed myself up. I shoved the leather pouch back into my pocket. I brushed the grit from my palms, but the red marks stayed, stinging in the cold air. I didn't move from the path immediately. Across the street, a man in a grey waistcoat stopped leaning against a storefront and whispered something to the woman beside him. She didn't look at the jars of candy anymore. She looked at me, her eyes traveling from my messy hair down to the bulge of the money in my sweater pocket. She didn't turn away when I met her gaze. She just moved her lips again, the words lost to the wind but the shape of them sharp and jagged.

"I fucking did! Pocket!" "What?" I said dumbly as she fought control over her arms again. That wasn't happening any time soon. "Pocket. Now." When that didn't push me into action, she wiggled her hips at me. "The dress has pockets. My ID is in my dress." "And that will help, how…?" "Just do it, handsome!" I reached into her dress and, sure enough, next to a chapstick, keys, and cell phone, was a wafer-thin wallet with her driver's ID and— "Do you see it?"

She and Emma both seemed to know where they were going so I followed, glancing at the beautiful items for sale. A dark red purse caught my eye, and I stopped to pick it up. It was a beautiful little creation, the leather a deep wine red. I even recognized the designer label. I looked at the price tag, knowing I had a little money saved up and could splurge on a purse, especially if I could say I got it in New York City. $2,290.00. I didn't have that much to splurge. I set it carefully back down and hurried to catch up with Rachel and Emma.

She put them earlier on the chair next to her before sitting down. "All in all, I have ten sweet, beautiful ladies on the list. They're the most eligible woman around Castleburgh and Dalton. They are all from reputable families." She stood up slightly and handed the folder to me. I accepted it, but my eyes shifted to her waist pocket as something sparkled from there. Not to my intention to look her on that side, but it seems like the one that sparkles is the tail of a G-Dragon. I furrowed my brows and looked at it again, but she had already sat down. . c.m. louden

She stood in the dim light in nothing but her slip, bare skin prickling as the reality of the bargain settled in. Twenty-four hours. Her pulse quickened, but her hands moved steadily as she laid out the arsenal of her other life across the coffee table: A collection of passports, each with a different name and smile. Phones, prepaid and untraceable. Wigs tucked neatly in silk bags, ready to become new women. Lipstick tubes hollowed out to hold blades, flash drives, and powder. And, of course, the little black notebook where she sketched lies as though they were blueprints.

You need the journal. Margaret opens the small box. Inside is a small book. The small book is the kind of small book that mothers of women who are gone keep in small boxes on Tuesday afternoons. The small book is a journal. The journal is the kind of journal that women who are gone used to keep on the nights the women who are gone could not sleep, in the way that women who are gone used to keep journals on the nights the women who are gone could not sleep when the women who are gone are the kind of women who are gone who used to keep journals on the nights the women who are gone could not sleep.

I smile at her. “Go, open it.” She insists happily. “I thought about you when I saw it so I instantly bought it right away.” I started opening the paper bag and saw a notebook that seemed like a journey or something and a cute hand-knitted slipper inside. “That is a Mamentos Before Child Pregnancy Journal so you could write down everything you want to.” “Oh Gwyneth that’s so sweet of you. Thank you.” I said as I examined the journal before throwing myself to her. “This means so much to me. Thank you.

Katherine couldn't help but ask in disbelief. Sofia rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look at Katherine as she continued to pull things out of her giant yellow purse. "I might," moonbeam said, drawing the attention of the other three girls. The redhead pulled out a small white coin purse embellished with green embossed leaves, and she began to shift through the contents in earnest, making small jingling noises as she searched for a McDonalds. Katherine looked at Sofia who simply shrugged and went back to digging through her bag. Tracy rolled her eyes, her arms folding over her ample chest as she leaned against the counter.

"You're rocking a crappy velcro wallet? You're ridiculous," "What? It holds my money and my cards. What do I need a fancy one for?" "Whatever the fuck it is you just put in it," she rolls her eyes. "It can be more than just useful, Dagmar," she slips her wallet out of her back pocket. It's a pretty turquoise color. She opens it to show me her license, money, cards, and pictures from when we were younger. She has all of us in there. "Cute, right?"

"Just pretending to know everything about me." She sat down, pulled the porridge without adding anything and took a bite after each blast of heat from her spoon. No matter where she was, Maureen realized she needed energy if she was going to fight. At least she needed to make use of the facilities available for the time being. Seeing her handbag on the nightstand, Maureen almost jumped, grabbing the laptop-sized object worth her monthly salary and checking the contents inside. "Still complete." The wallet and all its contents, some skincare products in travel packs, of course the all-important communication device was still there.