Escalation of Violence
Miko looked intently at the messenger bag right in front of her face. Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say she was right up on the bag itself. She was so close that she could see just how fine the stitching was along the seams.
She drew back as she picked up from the rack in front of her, and slowly ran her open hand across its surface. It was mildly stippled leather, and dyed a deep blue, as though it belonged in the ocean.
Perhaps the animal that it was made out of came from the ocean just below.
It felt smooth, yet bumpy. Like a tiny cobblestone street.
Miko crinkled her nose and put it back on the rack with the rest of the bags. It was a feel that didn’t quite sit right with her, so she moved on further down the aisle. There, more and more bags waited for her on the racks.
And among the racks, even more waited nearby, all full of bags of different shapes, sizes, materials, colors, everything.