She tapped at the keyboard slowly, picking out just the right words to convey for the story she wanted to tell. Lost in her own, self-made world, she only barely caught the flash of movement in her eye, followed by the gentle ding as the door to her shop struck the small bell that hung over the frame.
Silhouetted by the setting afternoon sun, was a petite figure. A bag, burdened with books bulged to one side and she tottered under its weight. As she passed the stacks and stacks of tomes in the quiet, corner bookstore, she made little to no noise, yet, the bookseller watched her with her peripheral vision intently.
The older shopkeeper quickly hit alt-tab and switched from the window of the writing program she was using, to the main credit and check out form. The petite figure approached her, her load now much larger than she had originally thought.
"Excuse me," the visitor said. "I was wondering if you're currently buying books."
"Well I don't buy just anything, you know," the shopkeeper replied, adjusting her glasses more to the end of the nose to get a better look at her with her own vision. "I have to be somewhat picky; otherwise we get inundated with bad romance novels and cheesy post apocalyptic crap."
That brought a smile to the smaller, younger woman's face and she replied, "No, nothing like that. Mostly textbooks, and some stuff from my personal collection. I just moved here."
The shopkeeper introduced herself, extending her thin hand, "Welcome to Orchards. It's small, but growing. My name is Marilyn, and I own the store."
The younger one smiled brightly and said, "I'm Penny."
She unloaded the books on the counter and shook Marilyn's hand.
"Well you go look around, Penny and I'll see what you've got here, okay?" Marilyn said.
"Well, um, I was wondering if you paid cash?" Penny asked.
"I can, but it's about a half of what you'd get for trade. I can't give out a whole lot that way." Marilyn said. She looked down at Penny who had the look of desperation on her face.
"Well do what you can, I'm kind of running short these days." Penny asked, nearly bleating.
Marilyn nodded, and Penny stood nervously.
Most of Penny's books were well taken care of or new. They had no breaks along the spine, nor dog-ears or tears. In the textbooks, there were no post-it notes, no highlighting, no underlining, nothing like that. Generally, she did not take textbooks, although these were modern enough that they still might be in print, and this gave her an idea.
"Do you know we have a community college here in Orchards?" Marilyn asked.
"Uh, no." Penny replied. Her big, sad blue eyes spoke volumes.
"Clark College, just down fourth plain, you can't miss it. You'll get better money for your textbooks there. These are all pretty recent, and I'm sure a new student could get some get better use of them."
Penny gushed, "Oh thank you! I'm really running low on cash."
Marilyn smiled, knowing she wouldn't be able to move the damn things.
Penny's collection of fiction was eclectic, to put it kindly. A lot of big names, and a few up-and-comers. A large stack of Koontz, assorted King, and Straub. She had a tendency to lean toward horror and fantasy, although Penny had a healthy selection of true crime and forensic studies. The dollar tab rose higher and higher, and after she tabulated their value turned toward Penny.
"I can give you twenty in cash, or forty in trade. That's quite a stack you have."
Penny looked at the stack of them and bit her lips, then asked, "What do you think I'll get for the textbooks at the college?"
"Easy a hundred. You have a lot here, mostly literature, stuff that kids will need. What were you, a history major?"
Penny's eyes bugged out, "Yeah, had to drop out. Couldn't afford it any more."
Marilyn bit her lower lip. She hated to see kids dropping out from lack of money, but she was old, and jaded enough that the possibility of a sob story was not out of mind.
"So you just moved here?" Marilyn asked.
"Yes, from Seattle. I wanted a small community, I'd like to try writing some historical fiction." Penny said.
Marilyn smiled, "Historical romance is always a good seller. I mean, I don't know the writer's end of the market, but I can tell you the little old ladies come in and out of here with boxes of them, day in, and day out."
Penny's eyes lit up, "Wow, really?"
She was so excitable, and Marilyn found that youthful exuberance charming.
"Have you had anything published yet?" Marilyn asked.
"Well not much, I post to a few blogs and do some online things, but nothing in paper. I guess I don't feel its real writing until it's in a book. I like the feel of paper in my hands, there's something cool about that," Penny replied, brightly.
"Well E-books do sell. It's not a bad market for the beginner. They say once you get the first novel down, the rest come along," Marilyn pointed out.
"Wow, I guess I have a lot of work to do then," Penny said. She looked slightly dejected, and Marilyn opened up her till.
"So you want twenty in cash?" She asked.
"Actually, if you think I can get that much out of the textbooks, I'll probably take the trade. I could use some new reading." Penny said.
Marilyn smiled, and filled out a business card with her balance on the back and stamped it, admonishing, "Now don't you loose that."
"Thank you," Penny said, smiling brightly, "I won't. Say, do you know when the college bookstore closes?"
"Same as I do, seven. If you hurry, you might be able to get there, as it's just past six-thirty." Marilyn quickly scrawled out a map as Penny scooped up the textbooks into her bag.
"Thanks again, I'll be back," she said, nearly prancing out the door, heading toward a battered old hatchback, with a University of Seattle bumper sticker on it.
Marilyn turned back to her monitor, the sound of the door's ringing echoing throughout the empty store. She hit alt-tab and the word-processing program she had been using came back into view. Her eyes played along the intricate sexual scene she had been outlining and wondered where it was going.
She poked at the keys lightly, in spurts. She had once timed herself and was able to get six-hundred decent written words per hour, on the days she wasn't interrupted by customer flow or telephone calls. Her peers had told her that that wasn't a bad rate, but she always felt it was horrible, considering she could type at ninety-two words per minute doing straight copy.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the two women, one large and submissive, and the other smaller, and dominant. The entire concept of dominance and submission excited her terribly and caused her to gyrate in her seat. She smiled and almost could feel the hot breath of her characters.
The door's bell rung again, this time with a regular customer, Henry. Henry was the owner of the pizza parlor next door. He had a stack of three paperbacks in one hand and smiled warmly at her. Henry had wanted to get into her panties ever since she opened the store, now over ten years.
"Hello, Henry," She said in her silky, almost sultry voice.
He smiled at her and said, "Marilyn how goes it?"
"It's a living," Marilyn replied. "Books come, books go."
He looked at Penny's healthy stack, "Well it looks like you're doing okay."
"Not too bad," she said, and held out her hand for his stack. She looked at him and said, "A buck and a half in trade."
He nodded at her and then went straight to the thriller section. Henry currently was reading Dean Koontz, and selected a favorite of hers, 'Watchers'. He grabbed it, a copy of 'Mr. Murder' and returned, setting them in front of her.
She totaled the bill at five dollars even, and he used the trade he brought in plus some additional trade on another card, and left her with a dollar and thirty-five in cash.
The warm summer evening sun stared to cast crimson and orange streaks and lit up the front of her shop. Henry turned toward her with his head in his dreams.
"Y'know this reminds me when I was a kid. My date and I would drive up into the hills there, and watch the sun set."
She looked at him dryly and said, "Why don't you take your wife? I'm sure she would appreciate getting out of the house."
Henry coughed and looked at her coolly. He opened his mouth up to reply and she merely waved her hand, "Go on Henry. I'll see you tomorrow."
Henry smiled at the thought of a new try on her, and she stepped behind her small counter, her rattan cane in one hand, following him to the door, turning off her 'open' sign and pulling the shades to the store. She locked the door checked it to make sure it locked and set the front door alarm.
She left out the back door, setting the alarms of the back door and drove a few short miles to her small tract home.
***
With nearly two hundred dollars in her pocket, Penny was happier than she had been in a very long time. When she got home, she listened to her voice mail to find out she had an offer for a temporary job, starting tomorrow. She quickly dialed back the office, and got the night operator who then assigned her the job. She had to be there early in the morning, and realized that it was just after eight.
She went to the plain, functional kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards, finding a container of microwave popcorn packets and tossing one of those in. As it cooked, she locked the doors to the dingy little apartment and peeled off her top and jeans. Dressed in only her undergarments, she retreated to the bedroom, to remove those as well. She slipped into a silk kimono, its cool comfort a definite relief to the heat of the July day, and turned on the two fans mounted in windows in her living room.
Her most valuable possession, a laptop computer, she took from its case and set it on the coffee table. She turned it on and then went back into the kitchen for her popcorn. When she returned, Windows had booted and she began to surf the internet.
She lurked on many different forums, reading posts, short stories and writing techniques. She belonged to several writers' critique groups, and while she did not feel good enough to post to them, she was learning a lot. She munched popcorn while she surfed with one hand, not wanting to get the keyboard or touch pad dirty.
As the night wore on, her surfing went from more mainstream websites to websites that are more exotic. She read short stories on the Nifty Erotic Story Archive, and posted a story to literotica.com. She was delighted to find her previous story, the first chapter in a novel had good reviews.
