Emporium

Her leather brown eyes blinked madly in the amber rain that was marmalade-tinged, lit by the setting sunlight, apricot sky.

She kept her eyes on her device, but halfheartedly window-shopped until suddenly she stopped.

A teal beret embroidered 'Moscow' caught her eye.

She leaned forward and knelt for a closer look. With her interest piqued, turning to intrigue, to want. She just had to buy

the handsome, finely textured headwear with intrinsic lettering in brass. From the Cold War to present day, it withstood.

She rushed into the aged emporium, eyes locked onto the beret, then grabbed. She dropped her money on the counter with the proprietor looking under his spectacles. He smiled as she donned the beret at an antique vanity. Her winsome smile was pearl. 

She was the new "Russian" girl.

"Goodbye!" she yelled before making her grand exit. Going on her beauteous, merry way to a lustful cabaret. She would flaunt her teal Moscow beret.

But, the nightclub was closed. She cursed like Blackbeard in modern profanity.

She looked at herself in the window out of sheer vanity.

She leaned forward and knelt for a better look and her piqued interest that turned to intrigue and want was now insanity.

She stood up quickly, mortified, blinking madly in the dark light rain that turned wine.

She raced back to the emporium, clutching the "Madhatter's hat" and ignoring her ringing phone.

Like an escapee from prison, she dashed into the antiquated emporium and threw the beret up high.

She made a grand exit, foregoing the refund, without a care.

Without a second thought to the handsome headwear.

The teal beret emboidered 'Moscow' that caught her eye.