Good morning all and welcome to an overcast Tuesday morning. The sun is not sunny, but the rain has yet to arrive. I’m hoping it will arrive soon as my garden needs a good watering. Do you believe we’ve reached mid July and my tomatoes are still green? Astounding. Usually I’m in the middle of a tomato glut by now. At this rate I will be making tomato sauce in September. But at least we have cucumbers pickling already. So that’s something. While the sky decides if it actually wants to rain or not, let’s get on with our morning writing prompt. Are you ready? Good, then let’s begin.
That one was a little slow to come. I think it could grow into an interesting story, but it was slow emerging this morning. I’ll have to come back to it later.
Tuesday, July 20th: An enormous glass case ran the length of the store.
An enormous glass case ran the length of the store. As I walked down the aisle looking at the building’s interior I wondered what was once displayed there. Had there been fine clothing laced behind the glass that a clerk would carefully extract? Or were baked goods lined up on little trays for discerning pastry connoisseurs to linger over. Maybe they contained chocolates or cough medicine. There were no details left behind from its original function.
At the moment there was nothing left behind from it’s current function. The glass sparkled from a fresh clean. The wooden top gleamed in the over head lights. The scent of lemon cleaner and some sort of wood oil swam through the air. It was oddly pleasant.
It was also unexpected.
When told that I inherited an abandoned property, I expected to find a derelict house. Instead I arrived in a town that looked as though it was clipped from a postcard and shown to a pristine, if empty store. As I looked around I could hear the door open behind me. I turned, half expecting to see a small child entering on a quest for penny candy.
Instead I found a pleasant looking middle aged man. He was slightly balding, with green eyes and a wide smile. Green eyes seemed to be a local trait. I met three people in this town thus far, the man I paid at the gas station for my gas, the woman who gave me directions and the man I passed on the street when I stepped out of my car after parking. Now this man had the same eyes.
‘Perhaps it’s a big family,’ I thought. I dismissed it and returned the man’s smile.
“Hello,” I said.
“Good afternoon, you must be Margaret.”
“I am,” I replied. I frowned slightly. I wasn’t expecting to meet with anyone. “And you are?”
“Oh forgive me of course. I am Kevin Daniels.”
The name ran a bell. “Oh yes,” I recalled. “The lawyer. You sent the papers and the keys.”
I momentarily suspected I was in the wrong place, but I held up the keys. Surely if I was not in the right place the keys would not have opened the front door.
“And clearly you received them all right.” He said.
“I did.” I said. “Should I have checked in before coming to the store?” I asked. I had never inherited a property before and quite frankly didn’t know the procedure. In fact I didn’t know anything about the relative who left me the building. Or any relatives at all for that matter.
“Oh no,” he said. “It’s perfectly fine. I just wanted to introduce myself.”