Marcy didn’t spend much time out and about, but whenever she did, it did wonders for her mood. Still, if it weren’t for Isis, then she’d probably spend most of her free time hunched over a book. Coupled with her job as a librarian, that was “Way too much time around books,” as Isis had repeatedly told her. 

Lately she had been reading through Mary Shelley’s works, with the blend of fantasy and reality being of particular interest to her. They helped pass the time when the library was slow, which it always was - even more so than usual lately.

She found that especially disappointing, as she had made it a habit to watch the people at the library go about their business, coming up with all sorts of fantasies about what their lives might entail. It seemed Liberty City was a hotspot for all the weirdos across Oregon, similar to how people said Portland was up North. 

Throughout her time at the library, Macy herself had seen a lot of different people pass through. There was the man with the fancy, fluffy red coat, the blind woman with the fancy cane, and the group of teenagers that would often sit at the tables and whisper about strange rumors they had heard.

Then there was her friend - Isis. She had popped by to visit her at work almost every day for the past six years, and today was no different. “Take a look at this.” Isis held a high contrast poster, probably for some obscure bar-frequenting punk group. “A thrift shop opened up not too far from the library. So, want to check it out after work?” 

Well, it’s not a band… but it’s still on brand. Marcy gave Isis a lazy smile, though still a genuine one. “Yeah, sure.” I don’t mind going to shows with Isis, but a thrift shop’s more my energy. Besides… Marcy looked down at her red jacket, which now had a small patch with an eye on it. This thing is creeping me out. 

* * *

As Marcy finished up her shift, she woke Isis up at a nearby table. There were only a couple people besides her coworker Daniel now, one of which was a man in a green jacket studying a textbook and taking notes. She had seen him around a lot the past year, though he didn’t seem all that interesting.

“I think I used to know that guy - I think Angel’s his name.” Isis threw a piece of gum in her mouth and offered Marcy a piece, which she took. “He used to help out at the bodega years back, but disappeared after a while. Thought you’d find that interesting.”

Not that interesting, but I guess it’s something. I always thought it was strange that I couldn’t pick up much about him despite coming here so often. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Marcy was just able to notice the thrift shop, with the small sign hanging above being hardly readable. The building itself looked like it had been squished by the two adjacent buildings, with the thin door and windows only making the effect stronger. 

As Marcy looked at the building, Isis just headed on in. Marcy followed suit soon after. The eye on the patch looked over to the left. So it is moving… She has suspected as much since it had appeared, though it returned to facing forward almost immediately every time it moved. That did beg the question: what was different this time? 

Isis began to flip through the hats sitting on a nearby wire shelf as Marcy looked over to see where she was. I guess it couldn’t hurt to take a look… She pushed past the first row of clothes and into the second and furthest row where the mens tops and jackets were hanging. 

The eye was looking right at a blue denim jacket. The moment Marcy looked back after seeing the jacket, the eye was gone. “What…?” she pulled on her jacket where the patch had been. It was gone.

Marcy reached out to the jacket on the rack, feeling an intense compulsion to do so. The closer she got, the more intense pressure built up in her core. For some reason, it didn’t seem to bother her. Really, it only served to intensify the desire to get closer. 

The moment she laid her hand on the jacket, thread began to erupt from inside the jacket, reforming the eye on the new jacket. The iris was now a glowing circle.

Startled by the sudden and clear presence of what could only be magic,  Marcy pulled her hand away, though her proximity led to a strange card being created in her hand. Almost as if it were a doorway into another world, the front of the card held what looked like a miniature version of the jacket inside and nothing else. 

As natural as her survival instincts, she felt a strange familiarity with what was happening. She took the card in her hand and folded the front face in half, hiding the jacket inside. The jacket in front of her disappeared just as the one in the card did. 

She reached to grab the jacket, and found that it was still there, just like the one in the card. It appeared as if you just couldn’t see it. Unfolding the card made the jacket reappear just as easily as it had disappeared. 

If she were someone else, she might’ve decided to steal the jacket. She did think about it, though that was mostly because she was worried about the cashier questioning the sudden appearance of a patch on the jacket. However, her conscience just wasn’t compatible with that idea. 

This thing’s got some sorta connection to me, that much is for sure… I’m not sure if that connection’s good, but I’m too curious to back down now. She focused on the patch itself, forming a new card as the previous one crumbled away into nothing. Folding it had the same effect as before, causing it to vanish.

As Marcy left the shop after buying the jacket, she found that it fit like a glove.  It was like it was made for her. Maybe it was. Five dollars was pretty cheap if that was the case.