Preparing a Velcro belt to quickly strap around the mother, the Seamstress smiled and plotted. That mother seemed so busy, so concerned with her work and not her own kids. Exceptionalism stood out for her efforts, and that could hardly be called plain. It almost disgusted the Seamstress.
Sneaking behind her, she strung the Belt around the mom's waist and it clipped together as if by magic.
The changes had already started, her trendy business suit had dulled into a more casual wardrobe. The expensive dressy work shoes looked considerably less costly as they became almost thrift-bought. Her salon-done crisp hair lost it's style and exemplary status as if a generic barber had cut it for 8$ without a single care. As the changes continually spread, the mother felt a strange lethargy wash over her.
"Yeah yeah I'll get the Market account to you... Tuesday? Friday, okay Friday sounds good I guess. Work hard or I'll, be mad or something. Yeah yeah realtors stocks whatever see ya." She told her client less than enthusiastically like a typical less-than-motivated barely-workaholic mother.
With a yawn, she hung up the grey mobile phone.
