Attention Span and Other Stories

ly homeless. Sean wouldn't look me in the eye as he told me I had to go. Although I knew we had

and society's cast-offs. We're all looking sorrowful, although some are more stoic tha

ll mouth curving just the right amount. And I've always loved the elegant slenderness of my waist. Below that,

right is gloomy, taciturn. He welcomed me with little more than a grunt. On my left, well, she might be pretty, if she'd only stop s

tch your name.' The right-

der than me, heavily built, with stro

e, Rose. Rejects and

temporarily,

you

heap, musty thrift store. I started off

efore it turned all industrial and started selling coffee tables made out of factory ju

marriage ended after just three years, when Ricky had a non-virtual affair with his virtual

turned out okay. She brought me out regularly to display sweetly scented flowers from her boyfriend, the good-looking but irresponsible Se

rying last nig

on the top shelf together, no privacy, without him ge

re. Keep your nose clean

ind of

a stool behind the cash register. She's flicking through a gossip magazine, but I've spotted her stealing outside for a

s. 'She'll drop you delibera

ky whisky decanter, he isn't my type, but I can see some wom

weeks on the bargain shelf, then, out you g

rt to feel worried. 'How

o. Not that long. A

take more than a week or two

e's the danger of bein

a home?' I look around the shop at the straggling inmates, pictu

canvas, being carried to the front of the shop by a wiry, intense woman in

inting?

s he's got a first class ticket out of here. Po

ted o

e, just the canvas. She might keep the

osh. I ha

n. 'There's not much they can do to you. Spray paint, maybe

Did Sean suspect my fate when he dropped me off last weekend, squ

isplaying flowers. Eventually, Corrine announced she was going to Australia and, with just two suitcases, took a taxi to the airport. Sean, tight-li

probably be okay. It's the wooden f

the corner. They're gathered respectfully around a glass-doored china ca

e Nigel, last week. I didn't have the heart to

you mean,

grey. Bright orange, in some ca

'm shocked.

ast once, maybe twice.' He lowers his voice. 'I saw it once. There was a specia

? With a machine? Ho

ushes me. I hadn't noticed the little b

' He's wearing a red coat, mittens dangling from the sl

snig

' I wh

'He got donated by mistake. We're all taking b

ucks in a breath before dropping it wit

nderstand,

rs back. 'The family moved

ate urge to giggle. T

der the tree, ' Charlie protests. 'With my own money.

else, buddy.' Hi

ont of Gus and me, his b

announces, looking up at ou

ses me doubtfully

. 'Mommy wil

s dad corrects hi

cell phone rings, slicing t

s, during the brief di

akes his stopper head.

e, looking in terror at

hristmas gift for Mom from her lit

waist and pull me down. For a moment, I am giddy,

' Gus calls

m marched towards Marsha and her cash t

tilts his head to me in farewell and

e painted or not, I'm goi

~

lished under the title Thrift St