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A Day's Errands Gone Awry
Jun. 2nd, 2003 11:58 amThe Helvetica bookshop was unheard of by 99% of all Wellingtonians. Which is odd, since it was terribly old when Wellington was still new, a fact that might seem to be a contradiction, but then many things about the shop were contrary, as we will soon learn.
Take its entrance, for example. If you can find it, that is. The door is slimmer than most and oddly enough rests directly between two other fairly garish doors. It's old, made of plain wood in a simple design. A casual glance would give one the impression that it was merely the woodwork separating the other two doors from each other. The small handle was plainly carved wood, and not noticeable unless you actually looked upon it as a door and glanced to where a doorknob would normally reside. Few bothered to take this line of reasoning to the extent of actually making this visual connection and entering the shop. Those who did tended to be quiet, reclusive types, shying away from the larger book stores with their well lit carpeted expanses and tables heaped with bestsellers.
Pete wasn't looking for the door, oddly enough. He was actually looking for the door just to the left of it which led into a slightly trendy clothing shoppe. Now this might seem like alien territory for Pete, but in truth it was one of the few places in town where he could find polo shirts that actually fit him. This one particular day his hand reached for the shiny brass doorknob, but to his surprise ended up gripping the small wooden one instead. He stared at his arm and wondered when it had developed a mind of its own. Even as he pondered this his wrist was pushing the door inward, and his feet, which previous to this day had always obeyed the commands of his brain, also seemed to have their own thoughts on the matter and he was surprised to find himself briskly stepping inside. The door snapped smartly shut behind him.
To Be Continued...
Take its entrance, for example. If you can find it, that is. The door is slimmer than most and oddly enough rests directly between two other fairly garish doors. It's old, made of plain wood in a simple design. A casual glance would give one the impression that it was merely the woodwork separating the other two doors from each other. The small handle was plainly carved wood, and not noticeable unless you actually looked upon it as a door and glanced to where a doorknob would normally reside. Few bothered to take this line of reasoning to the extent of actually making this visual connection and entering the shop. Those who did tended to be quiet, reclusive types, shying away from the larger book stores with their well lit carpeted expanses and tables heaped with bestsellers.
Pete wasn't looking for the door, oddly enough. He was actually looking for the door just to the left of it which led into a slightly trendy clothing shoppe. Now this might seem like alien territory for Pete, but in truth it was one of the few places in town where he could find polo shirts that actually fit him. This one particular day his hand reached for the shiny brass doorknob, but to his surprise ended up gripping the small wooden one instead. He stared at his arm and wondered when it had developed a mind of its own. Even as he pondered this his wrist was pushing the door inward, and his feet, which previous to this day had always obeyed the commands of his brain, also seemed to have their own thoughts on the matter and he was surprised to find himself briskly stepping inside. The door snapped smartly shut behind him.
To Be Continued...
