Saturday, December 24, 2011

Transparent Houses - 5

Grace was disappointed that the film presentation she had been looking forward to all week had been postponed. Had the film not arrived? Had the gallery's technology broken down? Was there a copyright law that had not been adhered to? What would she do with this "extra" time until her next appointment?

As an apology, the gallery had handed out small gift bags with (of course!) advertising material. However, hanging from the rope handle was a small ornament. Grace exclaimed at the ornament and was told that it came from the shop next door.

She side-stepped around a woman who was standing intently looking at the shop window and was almost run over by a man in jeans. He was wielding what appeared to be a cast iron obelisk through the doorway. How brave he was, taking such a weighty object into a space with such fragile things. Grace moved the gift bag to her other hand and held the door as he squeezed by. All she noticed was the size of his hands.

Once inside she was halted in awe by what she saw. How fortunate that she had stopped inside this shop that she had never ventured in before. What delight to see the array of colours, matte and shiny, in a variety of styles and shapes tucked into every available nook and cranny that could be found.  Looking upwards, Grace felt euphorically light-headed seeing the reflections of everything that dangled.

As Grace faced in each direction, she felt like she had as a small child in her Grandfather's house. How the mosaic floor, could make you giddy when you twirled yourself at high speed. A childhood prelude to having "one too many" in later youthful experiences with cheap red wine. As she faced the front window, she saw that the woman was still there. Like she herself, had stopped time in a bottle.

There was one instant when the sun shone through and lit on the same star hanging in the window that Grace had been given with her gift bag. The woman outside was transfixed, and a slow tear stopped on her cheek and her face broke into a dawning smile. She had received an answer.

Merrick left behind his newest creation for consignment with the staff and scooped the star ornament in his paw. His niece would like this. Now, he was done his shopping.

She was still there, like she herself had stopped time in a bottle. (Click to Tweet)

For the rest of The Little Story, read here. 

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