Found Fiction, circa 2008
Rustic Canyon Ivy VanMeer didn’t like her job. The receptionist window sat opposite the plush pink couch, on which sat frosty pink-lipped women, at the surgeon’s office to buy perfection in the form of D-cups and a pixie nose. At night, she wandered Melrose Blvd., buying Johnny Rotten jackets and Sid Vicious pants, with various safety pins and political buttons to hold the pieces together; other...
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