I was at a loose end, and wanted to get the brain moving. So I tried my hand at ten minute creative writing…
As the door opened, the thick atmosphere of the shop was flooded with fresh air and filtered light from the outside arcade.
Two women stepped through the old archway, and into the ancient shop.
Each silently assessed their surroundings, not wanting to speak for fear of breaking the magic that had once smelt so strongly of childhood.
The shop had once been their home — on days off from school and holidays. This shop was sanctuary from teachers, bullies and the sometime upsets of growing up.
Elsie, the first to step through the door, tapped her sister’s shoulder and pointed to a dressmaker’s mannequin. “Do you remember?”
Vera graced the floor and stood in front of the mannequin. “It’s like it was just yesterday. Grandma would let us dress her up with scrap fabrics, feathers and buttons. Anything that she had on hand.”
Elsie touched an old label at the neck of the mannequin; on which faded words could be just made out — Tallulah. Elsie smiled, “I remember naming her.”
Vera’s eyes shot around the dimly lit shop, “There was another. I’m sure of it.”
Elsie nodded and glanced around the shop, also trying to find the mannequin. “Didn’t you name her Olive?”
Vera headed toward the back of the shop toward another closed door. “She may be back here.”
To be continued… Maybe.