There was once a man, that had his own little antique store. It was alive back in its old time. Back when these items were really popular. He sold phones, and toys that are now vintage.
This man had every toy in a child's dream. Toys that made music, but you couldn't play with them, you could just listen to the soft melodies that it played.
The store had teddy bears, small wooden cars, blocks, things that would make a child back then, excited for Christmas. Because that child had simple hopes for a toy to play with.
Now, that store is very very old, and hidden at the top of the hill. No one takes the secret path anymore.
What I didn't know, was that path was going to lead me down to that magical place. The place of history, that when you walked down the floorboards you would be hit with a sense of awe.
This place was once filled with people. How sad that it should be filled with dust, and cobwebs. I thought as I made my way in through the planks of wood that covered the doorway.
Even though it as getting late, and the sun was already setting, I still wanted to see the inside of this place. I didn't care if it was haunted or not, I wanted to see inside.
As I placed the plank of wood down by the door I took down to enter the shop, I fixed my glasses to better see the dusty and abandoned store.
The store that was once alive.
As I looked around, it was like going back in time to see how the world was then. When I looked around, I could see mirrors that were dirty and grey from the dust. I could see shelves with phones, other tables were still full of other child's toys. Ones that once held vibrant colors, but were now faded to grey. Ones that you could wind up and a clown would pop out. Ones that you could pick up, and although she was heavy, you could play with her hair of yarn, and dress her up.
Such innocent times for children then. Yet so cruel with discipline when it came to schooling.
As I walked further down the small shop, there had seemed to be a shelf filled with glass horses, ballerina figures standing from their music box...
Standing? Isn't it supposed to be closed?
It was rather strange. To see how this particular music box looked so clean and polished compared to the rest.
As I walked closer, I saw that it was also in fact a jewelry box. No jewelry in there, as expected. I examined the ballerina's figure for a while. How she looked so well painted. The way her glass hair was up in a bun, makes me wonder what kind of a person she was.
How long have I been in that shop for? For the sky to already appear to posses a white ball of dust, that shines so brightly when full and reflecting the sun's light? That I should see the soft blueish white glow seep through and place itself on a door.
A door? I thought as I looked at the mirror. The small mirror behind where the ballerina stood gracefully. I looked passed my reflection with my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
I turned my body half way to it. It was a white door. The door to which the moonlight was leaning against from the spaces it could make its way into from the windows that were half boarded with planks of wood. The big window in front, especially.
I walked towards the door. I saw as the light was so kind enough to place itself on the beautiful knob of the door, so kindly decorated with gorgeous designs on it.
I reached for the knob, my fingers gripped the handle firmly but not enough to make marks in my hand if I pulled my hand away.
I turned the knob, and opened the door. My arm extended to my farther side as I stretched the door wide opened. There were stairs that led upwards. I was expecting it to go downwards, but it didn't.
