Bilocate — part seven (lighten-up & go thrifting for subterranean stars)
The following are room-by-room notes taken several fortunate years ago when routine busyness was safely open for business. It was a tour-long self-assignment then that now comes off like daily afterthought-horoscopes I was writing to myself at the time:
You’re trailed in an old town trinket shop by born-again speculators where turquoise is gold. Alarmed by the blessed shopkeepers’ suspicion, eventually you buy something because they’re just so nice about their assumption of your depravity.