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The Curios Shop  The Curios Shop is a story about a little shop in downtown Nothing Much that takes the right set of circumstances to be found. It’s also about creaky wood floors, an old book covered in velvet and a small cat with yellow eyes. I’d seen the sign for the shop someday over the summer when I’d been out peddling my bike. The sign was small and wooden, hanging from an iron brace over a door I’d never noticed. And even then, I’d forgotten it as soon as I looked away. Then a week later I’d seen it again and it sparked a memory and I’d retained a bit more of it. The third time I’d ridden by, I was racing home as the sky overhead quickly turned dark and the first few sprinkles had fallen on my face and hands. Still, I’d seen the sign swinging a bit in the rising wind and this time I’d been able to read it. Painted in fading maroon letters on a dark green background was the word “CURIOS” and I’d said it a few times in my mind as I sped through the falling rain toward home. Our downtown wasn’t large .. a few streets running north to south, a few more crossing over them, a big park with a pond and a maze of smaller alleys right in the heart of everything. In the neighbourhoods themselves, there were a few pockets here and there with a couple of buildings pushed together, housing a cafe, a corner store and maybe an office but not much more than that .. so I knew just about every block of town. How had I missed this little place? Even then, I’d seemed to have forgotten about it again. It slipped from my mind and now I’d fully intended to make a trip over to see the wares. By the time the rain had dried from my sleeves, the thought was gone. It wasn’t till today, when I’d stopped on the corner by the spice shop that all the times I’d seen it before came back and finally stuck. I’d stopped because I spotted the moon rising over the trees in the park and its pale face seemed bigger and more beautiful than I’d ever seen before. I must have been mesmerized for a few moments, lost in thinking about the moon. How distant and remote she was, yet present and known to each person in the world. I came back to myself as someone brushed past me in a hurry to cross the street. They spun me around a bit and that’s when my eyes fell upon the sign. “Curios”, I said to myself. It was an odd sensation but it seemed like the lines of the door under the sign of the front window and its contents were coming into existence as I looked at them. I’m sure because there was so much to take in, so many details to observe. The door was solid wood, painted black but with small carvings all over it, sigals and motifs of moons and acorns and honey bees that had been meticulously shaped in the panels - and at eye height was a window which I immediately peered through. All I could make out was a hazy sort of light inside. That’s when I noticed the front window, likewise framed in carved wood, decorated here with oak leaves and paw prints and things that must be runes, inscrutable to me but pretty nonetheless. The display was lined with jewel bright orange velvet and full of interesting objects, some I recognized and others I didn’t. There were bundles of herbs tied with string in different colours, decks of tarot cards and a wooden box filled with cones of incense. Laid out across the velvet were a dozen small candles in every colour of the rainbow and a bowl who’s bottom was as shiny and reflective as a mirror. I couldn’t see past the window, again just that hazy bit of light from further in. I reached for the door knob thinking I’d likely find it locked, but it turned smoothly in my hand and I pulled the door open and stepped through. It was dim inside and my glasses immediately fogged up on my face. It had been chilly out on the sidewalk and the air in here was warm and smelled of rose petals and lavender and sandalwood. There were creaky wood floors under my boots and the sound of a simmering pot somewhere in the background. I started to unwind the scarf from around my neck in the warmth and a hand reached out to take it. “I’ll just hang this up for you. So glad you finally made it in.” I turned toward the voice, pulling my fogged glasses off to wipe them on my sweater, but whoever had spoken was already gone. My scarf was twisted through the arms of a coat tree and the curtain behind the counter opposite was swaying back into place. I managed to get my now clear lenses back onto my nose and took a slow look around. It was a smallish shop with the walls painted like a starry midnight sky, dark blues and purples and the stars themselves, luminescing with a bright glow. There were a few vitrines full of tinctures and rocks and crystals and shelves full of old books and new journals. I found myself drawn to touch things, to run my finger over the spines of the books and pick up certain stones. There was a table full of old golden coins and handle bells and something made from dried reeds that rattled when I shook it, and I wanted to feel the weight of each object in my hand. I noticed the black curtain behind the counter twitch and a moment later a small grey cat with bright yellow eyes jumped up and landed softly on the case in front of me. There was a fuzzy shawl spread out over the surface, already liberally decorated with grey hairs that I guessed was her favourite resting spot and I swirled it into a soft nest as she watched. She stepped daintily into it and laid down like a sphinx and just stared at me. I laid a hand on her soft body and she purred without blinking. A shiver ran up my spine and I laughed at myself - it was deja vu I was feeling but I knew I hadn’t been here before so then what was this? I stroked the kitty between her eyes and supposed it was being right where i was supposed to be at this particular moment. The curtain shifted again and a woman with long black hair and a neat braid over one shoulder stepped through. She had a book with a green velvet cover in the crook of her elbow and a soft smile on her face. “Well” she said. “Shall we have a cup of tea and talk about it?” I smiled and nodded. Nothing Much Happens |
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