This is the second part of a seven-part short story. You can read the first part here.
For a moment or two, I stood in bewilderment near the door. The beam of light struck my eyes till I got accustomed to it. A bell chimed in the distant, maybe it was connected to the main door. The music that drew me in, had stopped, suddenly… why?
I gazed at the interiors of the shop. It left me a little flabbergasted. The small shop was lined with corridors of books, and many lay piled on the floor, forming crazy gravity-defying towers at scattered corners. There were abstract paintings on the walls, covered with cheap wallpaper like the cracked corners of pancake, grinning to bare a few dark holes. The floor had a rich red carpet that covered it like the fur of an animal. One step ahead, and the floor creaked. The sound reverberated throughout the shop.
“Would you not come in?” asked a voice from the depths to the left. Amidst all the books, I noticed a door. A lady stood in the darkness, peeping out from the stairs that led to the basement. With the grace of a feline, she climbed up the last few steps and was instantly clothed in the light. She had a small pixie face with a not too large a built. Her hair was whipped tightly into a bun, and her shell framed glasses steered dangerously close to the tip of her nose. Slim arms wrapped in front of her, she quickly fixed her glasses, and said, “How may I help you?”
“Uhm.” Well, words came thickly out, phlegm interrupted the flow, strangely. There was something in that moment that was both magical and strange.
“Uh, I just wanted to browse through some books,” I said, after having mustered an iota of courage. I’m not normally like this, girls, but I do not know what happened at this point. The devil must have taken charge of me.
“I see. And what do you prefer to read?” She continued from her corner as I stayed put to the square inch on my side of the floor. “Edgar Allan Poe, maybe.” The words spilled out of my mouth, but the truth was that I was a little perturbed. There was an something about the little Missy in her prissy skirt and blouse that gave me a feeling of unease. Maybe she can read minds. I better shut up now.
“Sir, that would be two lanes to your right and the second shelf from the top.” Her voice drifted through the leather bound books, and I made my way to the right. Suddenly the room felt a little larger, stretching a bit, but I blamed my avid imagination for that bit of description and crept on.
Participating in Half Marathon Blogging Challenge – Day 5 – with Blogchatter.