Jane gathers the last needles and folds the cloth around the supplies. Behind you, the children, a mixed group of small boys and girls in bright patched clothes remain beneath the lamps, cheering as the silk moth flutters above them.
She leads you a short distance into a covered arcade, where awnings soften the market noise. Cloth sellers line the passage, leaving empty packing tables between their stalls.
At a nearby stall, an elderly woman watches over bolts of blue and ocher fabric. Her narrow face, silver braid, and ink-stained apron mark her as the shopkeeper, a slight elderly woman in a russet skirt and cream blouse with a brass thimble.
Jane Singer
This is much better. I can spread everything out here without blocking the lane.
Jane places the bundle on an empty table and sorts spools, shears, cloth, and needles into careful rows. Then she glances toward the shopkeeper's stall.
Mara
You may call me Mara. If you need twine, or scraps too small to sell, ask plainly.
Jane Singer
Mara, might I borrow a little twine? A few fabric scraps would help as well.
Secure packing materials for Jane