from an old creaking store-front in a row of many others each stocked with man, woman, candy, and woven or wooden crafts. (of their own hands, probably) with faces, eager but friendly for seasonal sales and lugubrious lingerers. Back of each front, store doors swing in for haste. barterers' shelves, sturdily-built so that stores and supplies bemoan their differences, a cleaning bottle, damp rag, and more candies--strawberryfresh as could be. a ponytail weaves her way through the fronts, the booths. She is a spurious Coin-giver because she bobs her hair in dreams about thin-strapped Sequins and humid markets that produce economic Produce. but she is Plain and as many booths that candy-over whims are people that rot in the back rooms.