The chimes above Forgotten Furnishings sang a tired, brittle welcome. Stepping into the ship like wading into a deep tide of forgotten time. The air was a potent brew of aging books, and the sharp, musty odor of wet earth that cling to every object like a second skin. "hello! hello! Welcome to Forgotten Furnishings!" Neil's smile got even larger before he asked a question he should have probably added to his first sentence. "What brings you here today?" I stifle a chuckle before even trying to speak. My eyes glanced down at my shoes, my old worn work boots. "I'm looking for a random antique I can decorate my home with, thought this place would be nice to check out." My eyes glanced around, and locked onto these two large old looking cats. Neil noticed me looking at them and grabbed a few. He started walking back towards me but stopped, the grin still on his face. "Ah! These old things, some old coot dropped them off, didn't even ask for money for 'em, if you want 'em it's about 25 cents each" I blinked. 'some old coot?' I thought to myself, not wanting to work up the old man I left it at that. I grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie, starting to fidget while shifting my weight to my other leg, a stinging pain searing through the other leg. "I'll take all of them, so then I owe you $1.25 correct? Since there seems to be about five of those cats figures." Neil just smiled and nodded, "Yup, $1.25 for all 5" before grabbing a small bag from behind the counter. He wrapped them up in what looked like parchment paper, or maybe just gift paper, and handed them over to me. I nodded back to him, grabbing out my wallet and grabbing out the quarter and the dollar bill. "Have a nice day sir!" I chirped as I closed the door with a solid thud. The melody from the radio, a ridiculously cheery pop song, still bounced around in my head as I headed back towards my gleaming gray Ford Explorer. A sour, damp aroma stuck to my clothes like glue, the last bit of the old building, wrinkling my nose I try to shake the must from my memory. It wasn't till I made it to the parking lot that I could truly breathe again. I put the bag in the passenger seat, hoping it would just sit still, and not shatter. I hopped into the driver's seat, buckling up the cold seatbelt. My hand clasped around the steering wheel, threatening to slip off due to how wet and hot my hands were. My other hand was softly placed on the bag in my passenger seat. It almost reminds me of when I was a child, my mother packing my lunches, in brown paper bags, although this time it didn't contain my school's lunch.
