I am often walking into run-down fabric stores on 39th street. The slums of the fabric stores, when compared to the likes of Mood or B&J. The neon signs above the door are not unlike a sketchy bachelor bar or strip club. I wander through narrow passages with bolts of fabric lining my way, and seek someone, anyone, that may be there to help me. Often I am left to scavenging on my own, or the opposite, which is more like bargaining. On more than one occasion I have been expected to follow a man, who barely speaks English (or pretends not to), with freshly sharpened scissors, between rolls of fabric, along a small corridor, and into a back room. Could this be where young female interns are taken, cut open, and dropped in a room somewhere below the pavement?...
Today I happened to be on one such scavenge when I saw a stairwell leading to a floor below the store, completely blocked off with ropes. Is that where the young missing interns are kept during the day, and maybe brought out at night? Or, in another shop there was a dark stairwell leading up to what appeared to be an attic, despite the fact that this store is on the ground level of at least 10 floors. Is that 'attic' another missing girl...or boy location?
Is it just Halloween that triggered my observances of these little nuances today, or am I just hoping to be the victim of one of these stories? The latter is a fantastical idea when you are unhappy, lonely, and sick...however I'm going to leave the story writing to Steven Spielberg and hope my life doesn't really end up this way.
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