Hurting Strangers

In retrospect, I should probably have thought of someone other than myself and the ridiculous blue peacock woman.

By the time I had silenced my laugh, Garotinha had burst out in tears and I realized, belatedly, that the girl was probably terrified as can be and, likely, knew precisely how absurd her outfit looked, but didn’t have any say in what she was going to wear.

I tried to comfort her by offering her a hug, but she turned and darted off between the closely packed rows of clothes.

“Well, now you’ve done it, you pale excuse for a person,” the peacock woman said, her insult actually striking a nerve. “Follow me and maybe we can finish the disaster that is you in time for me to fix the girl’s makeup.”

“Actually, I picked this out,” I said, handing her the dress and shoes I picked.

“Uh, no. You will not be wearing that.”

I sighed and followed the peacock woman back through the racks of clothing to an area with a seat and mirror.

“Strip,” she commanded.

Still feeling badly about my careless comment toward Garotinha, I pulled off my clothes and stood before the peacock woman completely naked, save {if resistance > -1}a hidden dragonfly{else}two hidden dragonflies{endif}.