The corner store.

It begins on a rainy morning, thunderous clouds and a sky, which could not give the time of day away. Although it was 8:05 in the Morning, the sky was dark. So it was lucky that He was particular about time, and lucky that he always carried his grandfather’s gold pocket watch about him ( more for the sentimental value) But just to be careful (which he was always) His wristwatch was wound tightly around his wrist; which in turn kept perfect time. He unlocked the lock and with the click of the key pushed open the old heavy oak door and to hear the shop bell sound; music to his sensitive ears. He heaved in the smell of books. A smell he loved, the pages, the covers, the shelves. All of it his safe little adventure. He found he could become anything, anyone, see everything and anyone in the old corner store. He loved his books and his books loved him. And with each turn of a page the uncertainty of trouble, love, danger and more. From the shelves he heard them call to him, and from behind the counter he answered. Some would say he was ‘just’ a bookkeeper. Others would say he was more. But there was no doubting his bookstore on the corner was the finest. And there was no doubt this was because he adored literature more than anyone would. And even though he didn’t have to be at work till 10 he arrived at 8:05, every day for the last 7 years with new book in hand to add to his invaluable collection. He had his coffee at 8 for he would never take one in to the shop and for one whole hour and 55 minuets he walked the aisles and perused the shelves and everyday became lost in a new story. And everyday fell in love again. It was 8:10 and the shop door opened. It began on a rainy day in the little corner store.