There's something about the smell of a second hand store that just makes my heart race. It's like I'm in a time warp and I'm really in a forage state. I have been known to use the word " oxymoron " in my writing. In this oxymoron, I am referring to the situation in Jeffersonville, Indiana, where a second hand store is selling items that are not even from the town. The store is located in a area that is mostly dark, and the items are called "second hand." The store is selling items like tools, books, clothes, and shoes. The items are being sold at a rate of $2.50 per item. The store is also selling cigarettes as if it was a normal store. This is an oxymoron because it is not normal for cigarettes to be sold at a rate of $2.50 per item.