The Stationery Shop

                                       The Stationery Shop


My mechanical pencil didn't work. Darn. Now I had to go buy a new one. Josh and Hannah keep getting on me to buy a smart phone and keep notes on that. But I still prefer the old ways, pencil and paper. Yeah, I know, clutter and bother. But it works for me.

The bell on the shop door rings as I go in. This stationery shop has been on this corner for at least as long as I have been writing, sixty years? The smell of paper, glue and dust hit my nose and I saw the ancient resident cat on the counter. There were the pencils, where they had been for years, near the wooden rulers. I pick up several pencils as my supply at home is getting low.

I wander to the counter to pay. "Hello Jack, good to see you again," said Herbert, the owner.

"You as well, Herbert. How goes the battle?"

"Slow and steady, as always." He goes to the ancient cash register, rings up everything manually. It is a beautiful process to see and hear. "That will be $3.65 with tax."

"Glad to pay. I think I have that in cash." As I put my hand in my coat pocket, I feel something small, round and hard. I pull out a ring. "Do you think this might pay the bill?"

Herbert looked at the ring. "Jack, that ring would buy the store!"

W/C 239