The Penny Drops (Sea the Depths Book 1) by Karmon Kuhn (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📕

frozen on my face and was horrified. I shook my head from side to side and felt my hair brush against my back. I practiced smiles until my brow smoothed out and the edges of my lips were upturned. I wasn’t sure that this was right, but I wanted to make a connection with this human if bonding was possible. It felt so unnatural compared to my interaction with Penny, though. Perhaps, it would be harder to attract an unlikable female than a likeable one.

“Everything okay in there?” I heard from outside the curtain.

“Yes!” I startled and chose a random article from the “fitting room.”

Each piece was dark and fitted, much like the dress of the attendant. I preferred bright colors like my sea glass collection, but I supposed that a human knew human style better than I did. So, I tried on each piece, and they hugged my body comfortably. The fabrics were soft except for the shoes which were sturdy and structured. After trying on a few pieces, I came out with the clothing on to ask the attendant some questions. Before I could speak, she bolted over.

“You look great!” she said, “Those Doc Martens really make the outfit too. Very minimal 90’s grunge.”

“Doc Martens?”

“The boots,” She answered. “They look great on you. The distressed skinny jeans are perfect too.”

I was satisfied with her comments and decided to purchase the clothing she had chosen. Back at the counter, she looked at my chest and asked, “Do you want to get measured for bras? I can do that too?”

“Yes.” I answered, unsure of what a bra was.

She leaned below the counter and out of sight and came back up with a line of rolled material covered in numbers. She came back around to my side of the counter and instructed me to hold my arms up. She connected the end of the roll to a number in a few different positions over my body and concluded, “You’re a B. I’ll go get you a 34 to try on. Or would you prefer bralettes?”

“What is a bralette?” I asked.

She hesitated for a moment with a look that I couldn’t gauge. “They’re like bras. They provide some support, but they’re more comfortable.”

“A bralette please.” I stood at the counter and watched her scuttle around again. All of the choices were becoming tiresome. After a few moments, she brought me three choices. I had to keep my eyes neutral as I tried to understand how these all fit into the same category of item and in what way they should be worn.

“These all come with matching panties too! My boyfriend loves the white ones especially!” she said, closing one of her eyes in a wink.

“These are unisex articles?”

She looked at me blankly and then laughed. “Ha! You’re funny.”

“I will just have them all, please.”

I left the shop with both hands full of bags, and walked back to the inn. I noticed many others with such bags on the sidewalk. Were any of them tsuṣuṣe like me, buying what they needed for their missions? How many others were just acquisitive humans creating waste and over purchasing?

Chapter 5

B

ack in the room, I unpacked the bags and placed the articles in the storage furniture. I stood back and marveled at all of the fabric and stitching. The time and resources spent on these items was nearly upsetting. Given that I’d never worn clothing except suits for temperature regulation during long travel, I had no point of reference for owning these kinds of items. I wondered how this kind of need or worse, desire, could be sustained. Such waste.

I folded the bags and put them beside the articles. Rather than throwing them away as the foolish humans did and waiting for them to swirl in the Pacific, I would bring them directly to the tsez̈ø for repurposing.

For the appointment with Penny, I chose a soft, dark shirt and gray pants, called jeans, along with the flesh toned bralette and panties, a pair of plain, black socks, and the deep red Doc Martens. While they were heavy, I appreciated that they were colorful. I had to fight with the bralette to find a suitable fit and nearly fell over the bed trying to balance while I clasped it around my back. When I looked in the mirror, I felt that perhaps I’d put it on incorrectly. I hadn’t noticed any such article on the women I’d seen.

I pounded on the device and searched for its information setting. After sufficient frustrated tapping, I found it. I typed in “bralette” to the search function and learned that bras and bralettes were meant to support breasts and were worn under other articles of clothing. My eyes widened. I’d almost left my room with a bralette on top of my shirt. If my “accent” wasn’t enough to establish that I was a foreigner, that would’ve clearly labeled me as other.

Again, I fought with the article, but the struggle was worth it in the end. The clothing looked similar to their fit on the artificial human figures in the clothing store, and I was satisfied. To my eyes, I was attractively dressed and clean. My features were mostly symmetrical, aside from the scar, and I looked healthy.

I tried out a few expressions in the mirror, from a toothy grin to a full-bellied laugh and a submissive, calling gesture. While I was shaken by Darius’s and the shop attendant’s comments about my appearance, I was still thankful. I might have attracted some negative attention, but there had been nothing to suggest that the humans knew just how different I was. There were horror stories about tails that hadn’t completely split or ears and noses that hadn’t protruded properly, and I was glad that my modification was seamless.

Rather than fight the device for directions, I slid downstairs and asked the desk attendant where I could find a ‘Mug and Muffins’. Just as gruff as before,