Edna Mae McSworley flipped slowly through the pages of Fashionista Bravo! magazine, smirking at the photos of airbrushed girls with impossible figures wearing impossible clothes.



Clearly unhappy.


The sky outside held the promise of a very full day of rain. Even though it was still dry now, the churning clouds above were just looking for the precise time and place to release the deluge. This made for a very slow day at the Epic City Bike-O-Rama where Edna Mae worked. It seemed few people thought of bicycles and fine accessories when such a promise of profound rain lingered in the air.

“Amber” looked up at her from the next page. Tanned and taut, she sat, perched precariously on a large rock by a waterfall wearing a Scott Trumane tube skirt, a light linen button down from Kale Fa­­shion, shoes by Colby Adams and accessories from Any Girl Unlimited.

“Amber, honey, who put you up on that rock wearing those shoes,” Edna Mae muttered. “And would it kill you to eat a cheeseburger once in a while?” She looked closer at the image, at the shoes. She was convinced that if Colby Adams himself had to climb up that waterfall in those shoes, poor Amber would be wearing an entirely different ensemble.

Before she could officially label Amber as anorexic to move on to the next pixie, the bell over the door jangled drawing her attention. A woman entered, relatively tall and slender with her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. She began to walk the line of bikes to the left of the door.

“Hello and welcome to Epic City. Can I help you?” Edna Mae said as she was trained to do.

The woman turned quickly flashing a smile, “Not yet, I’m just looking.”

There was something familiar about that smile, the eyes. Edna Mae looked down at the magazine and then back up to the woman. Then down again. Then up.

That woman was tube skirt Amber.

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