Finding myself with approximately two minutes and thirty-seven seconds to spare as I rushed my way, childless, through a local shopping mall, I ducked into a one of many, well-known ladies retailers enclosed within.
Feeling fabrics and holding various outfits up against my person, I couldn’t help but notice the increasingly frantic cries of a woman inside the shop.
Calling something like ‘saffron’ or ’emerald’ or similar, I wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was, just that she was beginning to sound panicked. I worried for her and glanced up to see if I could lend some assistance.
She was doing some sort of frantic lap around one of the clothing racks, loaded with dresses at 20% off, this week only. At the exact opposite side of the rack, as she circled about it, was a delightful little girl of around three years age. Long, dark curly hair, and a cheeky, albeit simply radiating boredom face.