a bottle of Blue Curacao so when
she drinks she can think she's in

the Caribbean. She also snatched the clothes
she wore off the shelves of the local thrift

store.  She's does so well at this pilfering she's
figuring that she must save at least

twenty dollars a day. And this is more than she gets
from her books on the internet. Today was

no different than the rest. She does her earnest
at writing but it doesn't earn her anything. If she

stole the heart of  a man able enough to understand
her plight he might help her write a book that could

sell. Maybe he could market it better than her. Maybe
then she could pocket something more than

heartache, and walk out of the store with a receipt
instead of a quick retreat.