Age 15
A collaborative story - page 3
![tastefullyoffensive:
“ This kid has his priorities in order. [x]
”
No one likes a burnt mozzarella stick](https://64.media.tumblr.com/df1496576c1c9b5eb5117bb15c54cffb/tumblr_mysc0i1gUn1qewacoo1_500.jpg)
This kid has his priorities in order. [x]
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Age 15
When I was 15 I babysat every Saturday, earning considerably less than minimum wage. Then I’d work at a flea market every Sunday for my mother, selling kitsch for a slightly higher (though still less than minimum) wage.
The demand for her Tchotchkes was low, and my 9+ hour days at the market were spent sitting alone with a notebook.
Fortunately a pen and blank paper could still keep me amused.
The following posts are stories, games, and doodlings from my flea market ledger.
mydaguerreotypeboyfriend