Michal's HeadlinesShort Fiction Stories

Michal presents 4Occupy, an online art gallery and culture blog

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Bielsko-Biala, Poland

Photographs by Michal Slaby
A map showing Bielsko-Biala's position within Silesia
Bielsko-Biała lies in the corner of Silesia
Margo behind a tree

Short Fiction Stories, a cultural reference

Understanding the world from all angles...

Michal is a feminist filmmaker... Is that a joke?Filmy dla Kobiet poster

Women are not weak. Most of them have ten hands. What many of them lack in comparison to men is aggression. Men like to act without listening. I want to empower women so that they can influence men to act more favorably for justice, equality and peace.Pointer

By bringing myself to the point where I can actually listen to women, I want to show everyone that it's possible.

I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.

Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.

If the clip has trouble playing please try a version with a lower resolution.

Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern PolandPointer

Chapter 18: Schnapps

Janina describes seeing her teacher alive for the last time, among other Jews under the guard of German soldiers at the train station, sparking memories of her uncle, a Polish army doctor, and the evacuation of the Polish government at the start of the war and her father's interviews with passing German soldiers.

Michal's Dictionary:
Short Fiction Stories

I fondly remember the Scholastic Book Club catalogs I got in elementary school when I was a kid. I was always looking forward to getting them. It was fun to read all the descriptions and figure out what types of literature interested me the most, although it was particularly upsetting if a world literature anthology I liked was too expensive to even think about buying. I had to make informed decisions. Otherwise it meant a trip to the library and the hope that somebody else wouldn't have checked out any of my books-to-read.

There was one book that was always at the library but that I never had the courage to check out. It wasn't science fiction. It was a book about sex. I was afraid to hold it. Opening it made my heart race. I was afraid to be seen standing in the aisle. I had to switch aisles. I was a long way from the children's section but this was the one place in my world where I could see what a naked girl my age looked like. In the photograph she was standing in a line of girls and women, each progressively taller, older, rounder, fuller. If I had been able to at the time, I would've given this book a nobel prize just for this photograph. I wanted to know what girls were hiding and this was the one book that had the courage to show me the truth. Just having the chance to see the truth was satisfying, not to mention the fact that I was fascinated by the changes represented in those bodies. That I had to hide myself in a corner of a public library in Lincoln, Nebraska in order to see this truth opened up many questions for me.

The last time I was in a library I saw a grown man sitting in front of a computer unashamedly clicking through pictures of large breasts in bikinis on Facebook. If this man were able to do it, I'm sure he would give Facebook a nobel prize for providing this type of literature. He and I are products of a culture that fetishizes the human body. All primitive cultures fetishize something. They give it a specific charge, either positive or negative. It's the "why" that drives a community. Cowboys drive a herd of cattle by negatively fetishizing the land on either side. Men are driven the same way. For us to build a truly free society, one marked not just by sophisticated technology but also by a sophisticated culture, we will have to destroy the fetishes that drive us.

It doesn't matter what types of literature you like. Whether you like reading science-fiction or sampling world literature of an adult nature, just keep in mind that your choice is a little nobel prize of its own. Your choice dictates what kind of writing takes place. If you want humanity to live like cattle, do nothing. If you want to be a cowboy like me, see the fetish for what it is. Destroy its power.

Pronunciation of Short Fiction StoriesMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "short fiction stories."

Video of me pronouncing "short fiction stories."

Definition of Short Fiction StoriesMargo on a trampoline

I have yet to publish the definition of Short Fiction Stories.

I'm sure it won't take too long.

References for short fiction storiesMargo on a trampoline

  • I have yet to find good references for Short Fiction Stories

     

Samples of Fiction from Michal's CorpusMargo on a trampoline

An image of young Michal sitting on a potty in front of a typewriter

Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.

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Samples of Fiction from Death to McDonalds

An aerial view of Dodger Stadium in the foreground, with an imaginary partially submerged Los Angeles behind

A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.

Frame #7174

lowes's calling our spyhunt .operation identification. its a mouthful. i prefer .operation find.the.bastards. or just bastard for short.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

24 December, 12:49 AM

Frame #1654

i cant sit like this. my shorts are wet. my butt keeps squishing around. maybe if i turn on the heat.

Justin Bieber

14 August, 1:12 AM

Frame #6298

the walls of the caldera are shorter to the north only on average. madoff says he saw the cliff in pomona. its humongous.

Sprint "Iphone" Case

23 December, 10:13 AM

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Samples of Fiction from The Gospel of Jesus H.

A picture of the planet Mars

An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.

She was there and radiant. She was in Group Fifteen, holding onto the thick, gray-colored electromechanical transducer wire that stretched from the priest in front to the loudspeaker being carried behind. She was supposed to be in Group Twenty-five - silly girl: what a silly girl she was! What a huge forehead - and no chin! What a beautiful silly girl: those Japanese eyes! those huge lips! that short, straight, and yet, upturned nose. That mouth of hers was hanging open. How funny it was that she couldn't close her mouth! How absurd - and yet, so valuable! So endearing! and yet, so trivial. It made her look almost innocent. Like the guilty fool, she was difficult to judge. Was she beautiful or not? Was she beautiful when she smiled? Yes, she was beautiful. Was that huge mouth of hers beautiful? Yes, it was beautiful. Was she beautiful when she puckered her tiny, little chin by crooking her humongous jaw? Well, kind of: her little chin was beautiful (it complemented, among other things, her huge forehead) but sometimes she made her chin look sort of strange, as if she were trying to make herself look ugly or else to communicate something - perhaps, befuddlement. It was very unclear - unlike her eyes, which communicated things with unabashed honesty - like curiosity, for example - or, more appropriately, the beginnings of rapture, which, in this case, made themselves evident in the wideness of her eyes, in their feigned concentration on the dirt road underneath her feet, and, especially, in the way they pushed her black pupils and brown irides into the beautiful almond-shaped corners of her lids, following that mysterious image, that masked rider, your father, dressed in black body armor, who kept watching her pass him along the side of the road as he stood waiting in the fallow field, galloping forward every time she turned back her head.

Verse 266 from the chapter called Security

A short, Asian-looking woman with shoulder-length brown hair came running up and lifted the monkey into her arms and pressed him against her healthy bosom.

"Is this your monkey?" I asked, in English.

Verses 395-396 from the chapter called Bohemia

So it was that Jesus missed his mother's funeral. If God (FUCK GOD! Stop it! FUCK GOD!) had seen fit to let Jesus see his dead mother's body, blue and completely swollen, He (FUCK GOD! Stop it!) would have somehow delayed his flight, (FUCK GOD! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!) either by runway traffic or some strange kind of mechanical failure (FAILURE! FAILURE! FAILURE!), allowing his aunt (FAILURE!) safely to return with his ticket (FAILURE!), placing the short Italian man (FUCK MAN WITH A RED FACE!) in the awkward position of having oversold his flight (FLIGHT!), because Jesus had no doubt (FUCK DOUBT!) that the man (FUCK MAN!) had sold his seat to a stressed-out Polish Capitalist with no time and plenty of dollars (FUCK DOLLARS!). Jesus wondered what the markup had been. As it was, there was no way of finding out: the flight left; his aunt came back; together we all went home.

Verse 148 from the chapter called Adolescence

Forgive me, child, when I say that I found her, at first, only somewhat attractive. Her forehead was huge; her chin, nonexistent. Only later did I fully realize how well the two complemented each other - it required a sophisticated taste, one which I did not yet possess - but, nevertheless, even the most sophisticated taste would have required some sort of refinement to accept her beauty for what it was: complex and unrepentant. Unearthly was the best word. She was half-Japanese and half-Martian, which made her broad and narrow at the same time. It gave her a short and straight and yet upturned nose that anywhere else would've been ugly, but which on her was essential to the whole. It was a package of such unexpected brilliance that the parts were too bold to allow for quick and easy appreciation of the angelic splendor that shone from within and without. She was light. She was truly an angel. Hers was the most serene and gentle complexion I would ever come to value, and, at first, it struck me as rather odd. It was square and round, flat and curved, with almond-shaped eyes whose lids folded around her eyeballs - they were beautiful eyes. I came to love them with all my heart. What a strange and complex face your mother had.

Verse 442 from the chapter called Bohemia

The manager came and said, "What's the problem?" It was the very short Italian man with a red face.

"This man lost his ticket."

Verses 135-136 from the chapter called Adolescence

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Samples of Fiction from Sex for Children

A drawing of a man between a woman's legs in front of another man in a hospital bed

A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.

Now how would you express tolerance with your face? I have no idea, but he was doing it, consciously or not. It must have had something to do with the way he was balancing his body and turning his head, and, of course, the way his face was composed, which includes, naturally, his beard. But I really have no idea. What's even more funny: because it was a warm day in spring and he was wearing some very nice leather sandals, it suddenly occurred to me that he looked very Roman - very ancient Roman. The shorts he was wearing and his t-shirt began resembling an ancient tunic. Then I realized: we were his clients; he was our patron.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 2, The Second Day, Part 1, Labor & Economic Reform, Section 6, Doing Business, Paragraph 4

At the door, I tried to make him stay, but to no avail. I watched him walk away, down Prospect Street; standing in the doorway, with cool morning air all around me, watching him dip down, then climb up, stopping once to turn around and wave, he made me very happy - inexplicably happy. I smiled and waved back, unconsciously aware that we would not meet again for a long time. Shortly after that night, I was graduated. Leaving campus, I left for Europe with you and we did not come back for a long time.

– Title 1, Regarding Peaches and Bananas, Part 2, Section 7, Trying to Kiss, Paragraph 14

"Of course, Madame: with pleasure." I gave her another short bow and then I left. I made my way through the kitchen. I entered the drawing room and saw the piano to my left, sitting in its familiar corner.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 2, Prayer & The Reformation, Section 13, The Role of Music, Paragraph 3

NIKE: A black tunic! See: I told ya not to mess with me. Whoa! whoa! Watch out! Looks like you got short-chained. Hey, let's see if they can crawl fast enough to catch me.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 16, Determining Shock Value, Paragraph 88

INDIE: Hey: I don't know: but I'm sure we have dear, old Mitterrand to thank for it. The word on the street is that Chirac still has a private room. It's always reserved.

NIKE: What does he keep in it? Headscarves?

INDIE: I don't know - but apparently, this place does everything - everything short of murder, I guess. They'll even do rape fantasies for you.

NIKE: Hey: sounds great, but that's the last thing I need.

– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 5, The Fifth Day, Part 2, Science & Reform Schools, Section 9, Respecting Another's Politics, Paragraphs 42-45

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Samples of Fiction from Tsiga Tsiga Tsiga

Bullets whizzing by a statue of Nikola Tesla

A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.

"She was dressed like a nun?"

"A veil and a-what's it? A wimple: she was wearing a wimple."

"You think she's a nun?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I saw flesh."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw her hip."

"How?"

"It slipped out. It was gorgeous."

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story featuring a nun

"If he wants to stop, he should pull over."

"He's afraid of getting swamped. It's a buyer's market out here."

"I've never seen so much ass."

"This is incredible. Did you see that?"

"Not bad."

"That was a dude."

"You're joking."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story set in a forest in Paris where prostitutes gather

"Turn around. Never mind. There's too many people. You can't see anything. That girl back there was hot."

"Whatever."

– from “Paris Is For Rapists, Too,” a ghost story about a bunch of women and a bunch of men

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Samples of Fiction from Sorry Ms. Jackson

Chiseled letters from an ancient stone tablet hanging on a wall

A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.

LUKE: What's the difference between the two?

MS. JACKSON: Bounty families are descendant from the original Bounty mutineers, who settled on Pitcairn Island-

FLETCHER: With their Tahitian consorts. I'm sorry. I meant their Tahitian wives. And their Tahitian slaves. I mean, their male Tahitian friends.

MS. JACKSON: The Pitcairner families are descendant-

FLETCHER: From three adventurers - to be more precise, from two ack-willy whalers and a soldier-of-fortune.

LUKE: That's a ridgy-didge pedigree. Too right!

FLETCHER: It gets better. Being a direct descendant of my namesake, Fletcher Christian, the illustrious chief of the mutiny on the Bounty, I am therefore descendant from the ancient rulers of the Isle of Man.

LUKE: A reg'lar Pommy!

FLETCHER: My father's mother was a Quintal. That means half of him is descendant from a drunken scoundrel who set his ship on fire, drove his wife to suicide, and threatened to kill the entire island population. That's not the side of the story we like to tell. We prefer the story of how John Jackson turned to Christianity and taught his children to read and write. Jackson, I'll have you know, was a Christian before he became a Jackson. He changed his name the moment the British rediscovered the island. My mother admires his cowardice so much, she did the same thing.

– ACT I, lines 93-101

ALICE: Did somebody die?

FLETCHER: Don't ask.

ALICE: Yes.

FLETCHER: Even if your husband had died?

ALICE: It would.

FLETCHER: I've been wanting to confess this for so long. The island makes it hard. Who would have understood me if I had spoken? My mother? I pay my penance every time I hear her cry. She has no idea what part I played in that fire. I can't help feeling that, if I had stopped it, this family would never have had the problems it's had. Nobody died in that fire except for me. It was my own soul burning. As far as the house is concerned, restitution's been made. As for me, who would not find my weakness and ignore it? for the sake of convenience if not for shame. Who would restore my strength from the ashes?

ALICE: Let it be me. I will restore you.

FLETCHER: This is why I've been pursuing you. I knew you'd never give in to me. I saw your strength the moment you arrived: its grace: its beauty. I fell in love with it. I desired it - not for myself, but for its ability to release me from this guilt.

ALICE: Let me release you, Fletcher Christian. I will make you whole again.

FLETCHER: You will forgive me my crime?

– ACT II, lines 184-193

FLETCHER: You thought Norfolk had a checkered past. Being a former prison colony's prison colony is nothing next to Pitcairn.

ALICE: I would never have imagined it was like that. I thought it was a paradise.

FLETCHER: I'm writing a play about it - specifically about the woman who chopped off that man's head. She's an ancestor of mine. Maybe later we can go over a few scenes.

ALICE: I'd love to.

FLETCHER: If your neck doesn't still hurt.

ALICE: I'm feeling much better now, thank you.

FLETCHER: If you strained it, you strained it. I have to say, you have surprisingly little tension.

ALICE: It's my honeymoon. I've been having lots of sex.

FLETCHER: You shouldn't have reminded me.

ALICE: Why not?

– ACT I, lines 626-635

ALICE: I forgive you. Be a man once more.

FLETCHER: With a man's heart, I thank you. No longer must you fear my advances. The object of our intimacy has been achieved. I intend to follow your lead and pledge my life to the woman I love.

ALICE: Do I know her?

FLETCHER: You do. I love Kokomo with all my heart. My soul yearns for her soul's touch.

ALICE: In that case, let's finish these scenes in celebration of your restored manhood and your love for Kokomo.

FLETCHER: I know just the right page from which to start. 'What a blessed thing it is to confess! The firmly wound nut, when leashed to its bolt, will weather every blow. No strain is so big, no pressure so strong, no hand so steady, nor no patience so long that would eventually break the metal's hold when applied to just one end. It would turn forevermore in tantalizing defiance. Bring two solid hands together - with two worthy hearts - one to hold tight the bolt, the other to untwist his soul - and you shall feel the immediate release that with it brings joy, the work of resolution, and the ease which maketh that work seem slight.'

ALICE: Well proclaimed, poet!

FLETCHER: If only the rest were so good.

ALICE: I have no doubt it will be.

FLETCHER: As a show of thanks for your faith, I hereby expunge certain kisses from this scene, restoring to its solitary glory the one final kiss of the scene's end - if I may be so bold.

– ACT II, lines 194-203

MS. JACKSON: I will go insane if I don't find out.

GREY GOOSE: It's all very simple. These two have been running a racket: a confidence game. Kokomo plays the prostitute, whose story is so ridiculous it must be true. Finding out for oneself is the challenge. If she's the best lay in the South Pacific, one should know the difference.

FLETCHER: Satisfaction guaranteed.

GREY GOOSE: Cash comes rolling in.

MS. JACKSON: I don't understand. What happens when-

FLETCHER: By the time they get to bed, they think she's a charity case.

GREY GOOSE: She vomits on them and that's it.

MS. JACKSON: Vomits?

FLETCHER: It turns me off.

MS. JACKSON: How?

– ACT II, lines 431-440

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Samples of Fiction from Miscellaneous Dingbats

The title of the book at the end of a string of miscellaneous dingbats

A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.

I had to go. The attack on Barack was the last straw. The news claimed all the attacks were coming from one bad boxing club. It couldn't have been true. I was seeing skinheads on every street corner. I begged my friends at the university to help. I just wanted to leave the city. By the end of the week I was staying at a friend's dacha. In the middle of winter. With no heat. I had to borrow a small furnace and forage for wood on my own. I was happy. I was safe.

– from “A Black Man in Moscow,” an inspirational story that represents things that have actually happened, though the details are fictional

The beautiful Branca was the first child born to Sir Lima. The first of ten. I'm sure she was and remains his pride and joy. I wouldn't know. I've never met the man. Or Branca. Everything I know about her and her family comes from the boy who lived down the street from them. The boy who grew up to be a priest. A professor. The boy who to this day at the sheer mention of the name Branca leans back his head, inserts hand into shirt and begins violently pumping the fabric as if pistons were about to explode through his chest. I wish he wouldn't do it. If he tears a hole in his shirt I won't buy him a new one. His tastes are too expensive. That's his Hong Kong upbringing. His vow of poverty hasn't done much to squash it.

– from “Beautiful Branca,” a true story that isn't entirely factual if remember correctly

Branca lives in California now with her husband. Her old torch-bearer, Fr. Rebelo, lives outside Boston. I'm not sure when they last saw each other but it couldn't have been long ago. Rebelo does weddings for the family. He just did one for Lima child number ten. I don't remember any of their names. In fact, old Sir Lima announced at that wedding that henceforth a Lima marriage would not be valid unless performed by Rebelo. That's one of those chummy deals that's kept Hong Kong in business through the ages.

– from “Beautiful Branca,” a true story that has a few facts mixed up as far as I can tell

Love is the answer...

What are we waiting for? Let's accept it!

Are you a eunuch?

The art show that defies abuse

The Body Acceptance Calendar

A really good idea for a monthly calendar

If a 45-year-old businesswoman and hard working mother of three kids is going to pose nude for a calendar, it's gonna have to be a good one. Margo didn't start a coffee shop called the Vagina Cafe to win her favors from the establishment. Even as she dishes out prizes to the 20 women who placed last in the twentienth anniversary run of her town's biggest road race, her business, unlike everyone else, doesn't get mentioned. She was an official sponsor for Christ's sake! But the announcer just couldn't swallow his patriarchy and get the words "Vagina Cafe" out of his mouth. That's not something a proper gentleman would say in front of a crowd of humble God-fearing "ladies" who cherish their modesty! And a Body Acceptance Calendar is certainly not what a humble God-fearing book-seller like a Barnes and Noble would put on their shelves! So how do I expect to sell this in the mainstream? Maybe if you download the free versions a thousand billion times it might help. Start downloading.

A miniature portrait of MichalMargo at the beach

Help me maintain the "Short Fiction Stories" page...

If you love women and art...

Michal's importing Polish art...is he cuckoo?

Michal's Sales Pitch
Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts

  1. T-shirt fundraiser for sale

    Handcrafted t-shirt fundraiser for sale.

    Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed. Pointer

    From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  2. Felt handbag for sale

    Handcrafted felt handbag for sale.

    Felt bag by Dorota. Pointer

    Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  3. Decorative collar for sale

    Handcrafted decorative collar for sale.

    Decorative collar by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  4. Seamless handbag for sale

    Handcrafted seamless handbag for sale.

    Handbag by Sylwia. Pointer

    Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  5. Patchwork quilt for sale

    Handcrafted patchwork quilt for sale.

    Patchwork quilt by Alicja. Pointer

    Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  6. Nuno-felt shawl for sale

    Handcrafted nuno-felt shawl for sale.

    Shawl by Sylwia. Pointer

    Scarf made ​​with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  7. Clara the doll for sale

    Handcrafted clara the doll for sale.

    Clara by Alicja. Pointer

    Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  8. Noah the doll for sale

    Handcrafted noah the doll for sale.

    Noah by Alicja. Pointer

    Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  9. Black suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted black suspenders for sale.

    Black suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  10. Orange suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted orange suspenders for sale.

    Orange suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  11. Green suspenders for sale

    Handcrafted green suspenders for sale.

    Green suspenders by Zuzanna. Pointer

    Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  12. Felt earrings for sale

    Handcrafted felt earrings for sale.

    Felt earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  13. Round ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted round ceramic earrings for sale.

    Round ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  14. Oblong ceramic earrings for sale

    Handcrafted oblong ceramic earrings for sale.

    Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota. Pointer

    Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

  15. 'Coral' necklace for sale

    Handcrafted 'coral' necklace for sale.

    Corals by Sylwia. Pointer

    Necklace made ​​of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.

    To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.

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