All Sales Are Final by Tannis Mill

I’d like to return this, please.”

Roger glanced up as the elderly woman placed a hammer on the counter. She was beaming—the kind of smile that crinkles the eyes, like a grandmother waiting for cookies to cool.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything wrong with it?”

She chuckled. “Goodness, no! I just don’t need it anymore.”

Roger picked up the hammer, then froze. He tried to tell himself it was paint, but the skin and hair matted to the claw ruined the illusion.

The woman brightened, as if struck by the best idea.

“Actually, could I possibly trade it for a shovel?”