I ran my hands through my hair after hanging up the call. I had a little time, but it would be pointless unless I did something to get those stupid materials. I had to move, go out, and do something because I didn't want to be there, locked up with my problems. I initially went out with the idea of walking and clearing my mind a bit.
No one was thinking of selling to me, but maybe I could use another name. Someone who could bill for me, but who?
I had no friends, and to make a purchase like that, I needed someone who could bill a company because otherwise no one would want to sell to me again.
Admitting that my father had beaten me in just one day was too soon, so as I walked and thought of someone who could help me, I ended up seeing a magazine stand, one where American Stile magazine
