28 August 2012
I push the flimsy door open The dirty window rattles in its rotting frame A little silver bell tinkles through the eerily silent shop An old withered man cowers over the rubbish littered counter He glared at me with blind milky eyes as I step into the ancient shop
Glass bottles line the decaying shelves Hundreds of leather-bound books with crisp yellow pages cover the oak bookshelves Mysterious objects rest on the cold stone floor Beautiful statues of historical beings frozen in time sit on the cracked stone ground A dusty globe stands in the corner carefully drawn with faded colours A curved bronze sword hangs on the shop wall Strange patterns swirl on its metallic surface catching the dim light Grime cloaks the faces of many clocks as they tick time away Pictures of unnerving scenes clutter the walls
I turn on my heel and swiftly walk to the exit The sky has darkened and flickering mist has settled on the cobbled street The air was wintery Freezing flesh with hostile fingers I hurried down the bleak road to my cozy home
Old Shop • Opuss № I