Hey Guys !!
This is just a short story that came to my mind when I was putting up my Christmas tree. Yeah, I know. I was thinking of something so depressing while putting up one of the merriest things in the world (see what I did there)
Note: This story DOES NOT mean to put down any shop or other establishment.This is simply the woes stated by the character because of these establishments. HE believes that they have wronged him in some way.
Well, I cant dedicate to everyone since I can only choose one. But since this is a short story and its a one time thing, I cant dedicate for different chapters, so while I only put one on top, I also dedicate this to daisyhearts and TheTreesWhispers. You guys have been a great support to me and have constantly encouraged me to write. Thank you for being my inspiration.
Oh, and if you like this short story, please, don't forget to vote !!
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I turn the sign on the door from Open to Closed. I sigh. It has been 6 months since the last time I had payed the Tax officers for the shop space and every day, I expect them to suddenly come barging into my small little shop to tell me to vacate the space.
I look around my shop one last time before I exit. All its 400 sq.m of space has been covered by a gray carpet. It used to be white, but because of the dirt on the soles of the customers feet, the bright white carpet had been reduced to a dull gray.
Around 50 cardboard boxes of books are stacked on top of one another in the corner. This used to be a bookshop. Back when there weren't any of those fancy bookshops, this used to be a book haven. Every book imaginable used to be available at outlet prices. My grandfather started the business when he had graduated from college. He had complained that they aren't many bookshops in the world and people depended heavily on library. The library, although useful, didn't have every book you wanted and the joy of having a book that is completely yours is another feeling altogether.
The shop had been a huge success back in the 20's. Every one from this town and the next used to be frequent buyers. The shop had been passed down to my father after my grandfather had retired and now it has been passed down to me.
Truthfully, the shop had been doing just fine. Until the new Barnes & Nobles had been opened down the street. After that, the number of customers had dropped like a bomb. The rent for the shop space had been raised by 20%. This was never a problem before; The tax people were and will always be merciless and they had increased it before, but that time, we had many customers so the money was never a problem. Until now. God, these tax people drive me mad. Never mind the other billion times my father and grandfather had paid the tax on time. They wouldn't even give me an one year extension to sort things out. Not that that would've done any good, but the action would've been nice.
When people were enamoured by the huge stacks of books at Barnes & Nobles, I knew at that very moment that my little shop had lost all its appeal. My grandfather's life work. My fathers's life work; all gone. I knew that one day, the shop will have to meet its end. But I never thought it would be during my ownership.
I sit down in one of the chairs in the corner and I look around the brightly lit room. I remember my dad telling me when I was young, that our shop was the king of bookshops all around. I had jokingly told him that a monarch's rule always comes to end some day. Never had I thought I'd be a 100% true.
The 5 shelves that used to hold all the books are pushed to the wall. The 5 shelves, which used to hold the hopes and dreams of authors all around the world was now bare and collecting dust. I silent tear slides down my cheek before I could stop it.
My childhood.
My father's childhood
All in those 50 boxes and empty shelves.
I hurry to the door because I know, if I stay here for another minute, I am going to start crying with all the memories. And it wont stop.
No
I will not cry in front of the tax people. I will not show weakness in front of the people who have taken my everything away from me.
I walk out of the shop and make one last glance at the shop before I close for the weekend. I silently make a promise . I will not give up, not yet. I will fight and if I go, I'll go kicking and screaming. I pull my jacket hood closer to my skull and I walk out with the white fluff of snow on either side of my feet.
I walk down the never ending cobblestones of Mappleburry road.
