the magic shop, part 1
I read this prompt the other day, and I just couldn’t get it out of my head. This is a short introduction to the story because I think my mind has run off with this idea. This is going to be an interesting project, but since I’m in quarantine, why not? Comments and ideas are welcome. Remember, this is a draft.
Oh! Want to know the prompt?
A new shop opens that allows humans to rent mystical and magical things: superpowers, magical abilities/items, etc. Monetary payment is not accepted. You must pay much more abstract prices - memories, emotions, or even years of your life for the most expensive items.
Isn’t the idea fascinating? Well here is the introduction to my story. Have fun!
The old bookshop has been part of the landscape of Main Street in downtown Edmonds for as long as I can remember. One would think that it was abandoned because of the arrival of e-readers and digital books, but there are still many other places selling physical books in the city. This bookshop was abandoned way before the new wave of digital books, and no one seemed to want it. Abandoned places like that normally attract vagrants, shelter-seeking homeless, and idle vandals. Especially in North Seattle. Strangely enough, the shop never attracted any of the usual crowds. Only dust. It was as if magic protected it through time. And now magic has brought it back to life.
It's probably not actual magic, but it does seem so. None of us even knew that someone has bought the old shop, even though news travels fast in this town. In the course of one night, the shop was suddenly open as if magical creatures worked tirelessly all through the night, scrubbing, cleaning, and putting together a fantastical window display. That morning, as I walked briskly down Main Street to get my morning cup of coffee, my attention was seized by five children with their noses glued to the window of the shop. Their breaths creating little circles of fogging. While I found the scene quite delightful, I was suddenly aware of the particular shop the children were riveted by. It's the old bookshop, now a shop called “Circe”. I suddenly have flashbacks to a conversation about Greek Mythology. Wasn’t Circe a sorceress? My head hurts from lack of caffeine and the effort my mind had to put in to recall a conversation from college. With that kind of name for a store, you never know what wares they might be peddling. Maybe soap? Maybe incense and aromatherapy? Something organic.
I crossed the street and stood behind the children, straining to see what has captured their interest. I was surprised. Inside the window was a tree with dark wood and silver slivers running up and down it. Most of the leaves are black, but some of them are silver. It's like seeing the leaves of fall turn yellow and red. The leaves on this tree turn silver and black. The air around the tree seems to be charged. Silver specks of something akin to fairy dust float through the air. Nevermind children, a grown woman with a job she's going to be late to is captivated.
"It's a magic shop," one of the kids explained.
"A magic shop?" I asked, my mind temporarily conjured visions of rabbits being pulled out of hats.
"The owner's a witch," the little red-headed girl in front of me said with awe and a tiny bit of fear in her voice.
"There is no such thing." I had to be the adult around here. I am, in fact, the only adult in the vicinity.
"It said so on the door," someone said. I didn't really pay attention to who said it. I moved closer to the door. There was a sign hung from the door. The plaque was made of dark wood, with slivers of silver. The words were written in white, but the most captivating detail would be what it said:
All magic comes with a price
One that is yours to willingly pay
A day, a moment, a memory
Is the only currency we accept
May you find what you're looking for
And rid yourself of a time or two
My first observation was that it didn't rhyme. Aren't spells and incantations supposed to rhyme?
"What does this mean?" I asked no one in particular. I vaguely heard a buzzing in my purse. My phone is ringing somewhere in there, but my purse is a black hole I didn't want to wrestle with just yet.
My question was met with a murmur of "I don't know" from the children. I glanced at my wristwatch and gasped. I'm late for work! This store is already bewitching, and I don't even know what it sells just yet. I vowed to come back and check out the shop after work. I hope it'll be open. I rushed off to my car, berating myself for missing my usual morning coffee. This is shaping up to be a weird day. As I open the door to my car, I glanced up at the magic shop. A sign that wasn't there before had appeared. The sign, in beautiful penmanship, said "Open".
The red-headed little girl took hold of the antique doorknob and opened the door.