“What are these, anyway?” I hold up one of the shriveled objects.
Anika smirks. “Isn’t it obvious? These are giraffe’s penises from a collector in Leipsig.”
“Ewww.” I drop them back into the box.
“Go easy on the goods! Once mounted, they’ll fetch a fine price. They’re from the early 1940s. If I depended on tarot reading, I’d soon starve.”
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