It had been a few months, but it was time again. Workers had pulled together to put up some booths around the park, while picnic tables were dusted off and extra seats put down. Finally, they busied themselves over the banner, hanging it between two trees, announcing to all and sundry that the market... was back in session.
[[ wait for the ocd up
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On the table in front of him, there was an assortment of bits and bobs -- tangled antique jewelry in a box here, a crate of old records there, a rack of vintage clothes to one side, a selection of outdated appliance at the far left.
An unusually thorough inspection would reveal several small black spiders under the table, busily, happily spinning webs. Spider might take a moment to say hello.
[OOC: Contents of stall moddable and subject to change at Spider's whim. He is from Anansi Boys.]
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Whether it had been the same five minutes ago was immaterial.
"What's your name? I'm Spider."
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"Eighty-five," he told her in a light tone. "I have to make a living, girlie."
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