Part 2 – Go In –
After a few moments hesitation you opt to go in to the store and check it out. The door sticks a little so you push your shoulder against the rough and weathered wood, and it scrapes open under your added weight. A bell rang out at your entry, as the door pushed it aside, the chimes tinkling creating a familiar sound, that rings again as you push the door closed behind you.
The store is exceedingly dark after coming in from the day light outside. It’s warm and musty in here and smells overwhelmingly like dirt and old books. As your eyes adjust to the dim light you realize that instead of electric lights the interior is lit by large flickering candles, their wax dripping from the sconce on to the floor below, the hot liquid creating patterns as the puddles coagulated beneath my feet.
You’re eyes travel around the room and you catch glimpses of items that are placed nearest to flickering candlelight. The book shelves that you can see are disheveled and papers poked out willy-nilly between books that were as wide as you and seemed to be decaying before your eyes. You shake your head at the state of the store and again wonder where on earth it came from. Stepping further into the store, the light that had come in through the windows faded and you are left in the candlelit darkness. It was as if the sun didn’t penetrate the large plate glass window.
Even with the light of the candles you have to squint through the darkness to maneuver yourself around the tables placed haphazardly between you and the figure at the back of the store.
The light seems to decrease as you move further in, it is dark enough that you can barely see where you are going, but you decide to press forward and see why you were beckoned inside. Trailing your hand along the table tops to help you keep the balance, you can feel the dust collect as you push it along with your fingertips. Your fingers track over small objects, their textures varying beneath your fingers, some rough, smooth, sharp, while others feel cold to the touch. You feel a prick on your finger and you quickly draw it to your mouth placing the offended appendage to your tongue to soothe the hurt, the irony taste of blood coating your mouth and whispering to you that this may have been a bad idea.
WHAT DO YOU DO?
* Turn around and leave
* Continue Forward
* Find what cut you
* Cuss loudly
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