I remember her fondly. Her purse in the crook of her elbow as she perused the bins. Each one holding some strange tentacle or clawed monster. She deftly trusted a hand and inspected a fish. Eyeing it face to face she blinked and it did too. Surely a bad omen. 

And then she turned to smile at me. Her false teeth never sitting right, her smile was always a little crooked. 

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