At the corner of a narrow street was a shop with a faded red awning drooped over the entrance. Malloy’s Apothecary, was written in gold accompanied by Chinese character below it. More importantly was the ‘HELP WANTED’ sign stuffed in the corner of the window, nearly imperceptible to those walking by it.
Beggars can’t be choosers, and people desperate enough to hang up signs in this day and age fall into that category too.
I hear the faint jingle of a bell as I step inside. Floor to ceiling shelves lined one side of the wall, and at the center of the shop was a counter made of dark lacquered wood.
Out from a beaded doorway steps a white-haired man wearing a high-collar jacket. He languidly rounds the counter and assumes the role of a shop keeper.
The only reason why I'm unloading now is because he pushed me to do it. He could have just answered my questions normally like any other person instead of having to goad me like this.
“I honestly just woke up in this city today without any memories of how I got here. The one person who seems to know anything about that just disappeared and it’ll take another week before I can catch the next ticket out of this city.”