File 1287 – Gala Mall Storekeeper’s account
There’s a path of streaked laminate.
It runs all the way through the mall,
It ends in my cubby hole store.
It may look like a tea and herb shop,
But this is where the Traders come.
That’s what they call themselves.
They bring rare finds from the forests,
They come for sterile needles, gauze, stitches.
They package their wares in something like papyrus.
My only complaint is, when they walk out of the store,
They’re gone.
I mean they vanish.
Happens every time.
Even when the crowds aren’t there to swallow them up.
Weird right?
Now, where’s my reward?
This story is brought to you by Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers. In fact the photo prompt is © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields! A double dose of gratitude goes her way.
This piece is a side story of my upcoming, novel, “Children of the Hidden”. The first ten pages are actually with a publisher for review. Here’s hoping the story is snapped up by a traditional publisher. Meanwhile I’m pursuing the self-publishing world which my friends, is a planet of information and actions to be successful!
Write on! May your day follow a path to joy or at least a good cup of coffee! Best, Clare

