Saleswoman Stories

Silk Awakening In the dimly lit boutique, the air hummed with the faint rustle of silk and lace, a sanctuary against the February chill seeping through the locked door. I hurried down the street earlier that day, drawing my cardigan closer against the relentless bite of the wind. A quiet curse escaped my lips. Why did I always convince myself I could brave the frost without more layers? The sun hung high in a vast, unyiel...

‘I mean, who knows what the dorm will have. And he needs a good mattress.’They were driving me up the wall, these two.The mother had more questions than a game of Trivial Pursuit. How good is the back support? Where does the fabric come from? Are there reviews? But the son was the one making this torturous.Usually mothers and sons are in and out in a flash. No matter how picky the mothers are, the sons are such little shi...