The 50s store…

He walked in to the blue signed bookshop. The floor mat a stripped lined blue & green monstrosity from the 1950s, but that was the bizarre introduction to this magical world of words & creativity.

The inside, filled with orange pine shelf after shelf of literary history from all walks of life shone like a forest in the early morning light. The wooden floor reflecting the artificial light creating a cosy yet well lit experience.

Behind the counter sat the owner. Her long brown hair and yellow flower covered green dress betrayed her age. A visage of the psychedelic 60s, her skin & features portrayed an age of less than 30.

She was busy, talking to two friends or would be customers. The pair in equally bright and vivid outfits stood around the book packed counter and chatted to the owner.

He paid no attention to their conversation, although would later imagine it involved the previous wild weekend of wine and drugs. For now his mind was purely on the location of the other 20 or so as yet unknown individuals that Phil had invited to the poetic reading.

About T.Bonney

Northerner with a penchant for optimism and self-deprecating humour. London based for 14+ years now and still love it most of the time. Philosophical, film fan with tastes for beer, rugby, reading and more.

Posted on 15/11/2017, in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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