I'm at a thrift shop, a windowless, drab affair, 2 story building crammed with rubbish in no particular order, a sort of sort-and-find your own treasure affair. It's expensive, as they go, but I've managed to find a few treasures, a few wooden jewelry boxes, another, checking the price, for a moment I misread $12.00 as $120 and put it back, I can't afford it, then I check it again and realize my mistake...it's filled with secret doors and old mismatched earrings, cufflinks, I pile them all in the box, I'll sort it out and explore it later when I get home...
And there's a puppet, lobster, folkways, companion to one I bought for a fingerless friend, a crab, I put my hand in, the long claws can be pulled back to fit over your fingers, check the price, $3.00, fine, but it's scratched out, a note on the tag says it's $5.00, too much, this thrift shop is expensive...
I'm unpacking my finds in the bedroom, time now to go through them, see what I've found, the $12.00 jewelry box is the treasure, when I hear someone enter the house and come upstairs, looking through the doorway it's A****, little G's son, he's pulling, carrying a 4 year old boy up the stairs (her other child (???)), putting it in his room, he sees me, but says nothing, and I realize that I shouldn't be here, this isn't my home, and I'm going to catch it when little G finds out in a big way...