It was their standard pattern for normal clothing, to denote the tribe we belonged to. Why would you need a different pattern?”John gave a short lau...h. “Fashion, dear girl, fashion!”Maranga was puzzled, and so was Decala.“What is this ‘fashion’, John?” Maranga asked.He gazed at her in amazement. “You ladies have not thought of wearing clothes that are distinctive and unique, so that other women don’t have clothes to match you?”“No. Does it matter?”“It should do. In my era, fashion was a massive. I had been reading them for some time, and was beginning to understand what the most popular subjects were about, any incest, a romantic story with a hook, and the occasional science fiction story.I put out, on my StoriesOnline Blog account, a request for an E-Book provider that doesn’t mind if it is dirty, incestuous, or obscene. Considering you can write a story with 14 year olds doing things I had yet to do myself, I was hopeful.I also googled ‘Places who will publish dirty stories, ‘ on my. I just always have." This was so true. I never knew wherethis desire came from. I knew it had started when I saw an image in ateen magazine of my sister's. The photo was of a babysitter who had tiedup her young charge so she could watch TV undisturbed. I was instantlydifferent."Why do you like nail polish so much?" she asked.Now I was getting embarrassed. I didn't know I had given so much away soeasily. Or maybe I was caught that anyone would ask such blunt questions."Look," she said. "It's ok. It was almost a relief to enter the next room and only be attacked by spiders. They were quickly vanquished. The tunnels led up some stairs. A chest lay directly in front of us, but there were more spiders down the hall in either direction.The spiders quickly fell to our arrows and we recovered some treasure from the chest. I was really starting to feel the strain in my muscles from the previous battles. A little further down this hallway was a closed door. I opened it, hoping to find someplace.