It’s not an area of the world you find yourself in without a planned excursion. It’s not a road you turn down, unless you know where you’re going. It’s not a village you stay in without knowing someone there. It’s not a store you go into, without a purpose in mind.
“How’s it going, Eddie?”
“Just fine, Kathy. Just fine.”
“Night crawlers and a twelve pack?”
“You always know exactly what I’m in here for!”
One customer after another, as the days move from season to season, the store provides exactly what they need.
“I’m not sure if I’m in the right place…”
“Here for the poetry reading?”
“Oh, yes!”
A small town shop which holds shelves full of food, drinks, local jarred items, fresh coffee, and a sense of belonging. It might be improperly conceived as a small town convenience store, but wander a little farther inside and the store provides oddities in the form of unmarked VHS tapes, a junk drawer, and a collection of door stoppers. When you enter the store, you enter into an active sense of discovery.
“I just need to grab some…”
“They moved over to the shelves in the back, dear.”
“Oh, thanks!”
The store moves and grows with the world around it. The art on the gallery walls replaces itself, the books on the shelves write themselves, the music flows out of the walls. It changes to better fit the community as it changes with the seasons, but it also seems to change for the individual.
“I could have sworn it was here yesterday…”
“Didn’t you need some fresh veggies for dinner tonight?”
“Oh, well, I guess I do. Might as well get some when they’re right in front of me!”
A mist comes over the eyes of the individuals who enter Otto’s Abode. The walls breathe in the life of its customers; it consumes their emotions, their needs, their wants. The taste of the knowledge sustains its needs and, in exchange, it provides the physical representation.
“I haven’t heard this song since my wife died.”
“It’s just as beautiful today as it was all those years ago.”
“Truly. I didn’t know I needed to hear it today, but I feel fulfilled.”
Most people, whether they know it or not, walk around in their day with a desire that needs to be satisfied. In a location so remote, it is rare to find an individual who lacks a need; an individual who enters the store unable to pay the entrance fee.
“How can I help you, dear?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just looking.”
“How strange…”
It is rare indeed when the store groans, unfulfilled. When the everyday, easy going life of its residents is disturbed. When a visitor muddles its shelves with absolute contentment.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you need?”
“Oh, no, I’m all set. Thanks, though!”
“But how…”
The first time it happened, the store lost a few jugs of syrup. Next it was an entire shelf, screws and all. The unease grew until a backroom disappeared into the night, leaving only the stars as witnesses.
“This store is so cute!”
“I know, right? It’s… What’s that word? Kitschy?”
“Kitschy!”
It was late evening with the sun just setting over the summer sky, lighting the lake up as bright as a fire, when the store consumed its first victim. It was a vindication, a settling of debts. It had not been paid the entrance fee in a twofold arrival; what were the odds!
“You two are camping in the area? You’re sure you don’t need anything? Anything at all?”
“We are all set! Bought everything online.”
“Cute store, though!”
The news wrote it off as two city slickers getting lost in the wilderness, but Otto’s Abode knew. The village knew. Without paying the price, the store wouldn’t let them leave. Not a hair was left behind. The sun set, its fire drowned in the lake.
“This is a cute store, can we go in?’
“Is there something you need?”
“No, but…”
“You don’t go in there unless there’s something you need…”
It’s not an area of the world you find yourself in without a planned excursion. It’s not a road you turn down, unless you know where you’re going. It’s not a village you stay in without knowing someone there. It’s not a store you go into, without a purpose in mind.
Your composition (no, not that old school “composition”) rose to the challenge of bringing to life a place so idiosyncratic you had no baseline to launch from, demonstrating once more that what we write about dictates how we write about it.
This masterpiece is priceless…..I know exactly what you are conveying. You made my day