Some journeys require a little distance before they can truly begin.
Ella exited the subway, ran up the stairs, and reached the sidewalk, where a downpour suddenly replaced the soft falling rain. Hurried passersby jostled helplessly for shelter. Invaded by urgency, she gave way to a frantic search for an umbrella in her bag but came up empty-handed. Where did I leave it? She thought. And the memory of the interview she had done minutes before invaded the already troubled moment with a feeling of doubt: ‘It’s such a challenging position.’But there was no time to think. The rain was tireless, making Ella feel powerless, as a drop lost in the flow of everything.
Running from the frenetic crowd for a dry refuge, she spotted a calmer street. The place that transmitted a sense of tranquility to her was like an oasis of peace. The only neon sign above a shop window – the others were closed – read “Wonders and Whims,”. It’s light mingled with the faint heat of the streetlights, casting a warm glow across the rain-soaked cobblestone sidewalk. The shop was quiet, nestled in a charming two-story building. The large windows offered a glimpse of peace in contrast to the hustle and bustle she had just gotten rid of.
Ella felt so attracted that she pushed the door without further consideration. Her urgency for a shelter from the heavy rain was broken by tinkling bells that announced her arrival and made her notice that she had passed through a grand wooden doorsill flanked by mystical symbols. She slowed down and removed her trench coat, and when she started to search for a place to hang it, an older man standing in front of her offered help after introducing himself.
“Good evening, Miss. Magnus Katz, at your service, but please call me Magnus,” he said with a slight bow and a warm smile.
“I am Miss Ninh, Ella Ninh. And yes, please, thank you, Mr. Katz.
“Excuse me for interrupting, perhaps it’s time to close the shop.” and Ella added, “It’s raining heavily outside. May I stay until it stops?” she asked
“Of course, responded Magnus. You are my guest. And don’t worry about the time to close the store; I have some errands to run. Please, take a seat.” Magnus offered.
After a glance around the room, she observed, “It’s… strangely quiet in here. Quiet, but as if the silence were watching me,” Ella said, smiling, trying to soothe any awkwardness her thoughtless comment might have caused.
“That’s the charm of old things. They remember more than they let on.” Magnus says this as he gestures to a comfortable chair and invites the woman for tea.
Magnus had a tea table so well-positioned that it was almost imperceptible, for it wasn’t easy to tell the antiques from his objects in use. He carefully pours the tea into delicate Chinese cups with randomly sprinkled purple flowers intertwined with golden tendrils. Ella notices the meticulous movements he attributes to serving the tea, which exude elegance and warmth. The soft pink hue and subtle jasmine fragrance made her surrender to the tranquility with a deep breath, taking the first sip of the delicate tea. She calmed down, understanding that Magnus was just an older man, harmless and wise. After all, big cities are full of opportunities, but not all are kind.
Ella smiles slightly and thanks Magnus, who thanks her in return for the opportunity to have tea with someone at that hour.
“Now, excuse me, Miss Ninh. I will let you enjoy your tea while I finish some important things.” Magnus says as he walks toward a desk with drawers and opens one.
In her world of thoughtless exchanges, finding someone so calm is rare. For a moment, she feels as if she has entered another time. The dim golden light of the store made her feel welcomed into an atmosphere of infinite possibilities as she watched Magnus rummaging through the drawer, each movement a silent dance in that tranquil space.
She glanced out the window and saw that the rain was still lingering and sighed absently without noticing that Magnus had approached, holding a small globe that glowed with a yellow neon light, and said, “Miss Ninh, allow me to present to you this precious artifact that I have named the Moment Catcher,” he said reverently. “You may keep it.”
Impulsively, Ella held the gleaming object and noticed it wasn’t rigid. Although it could almost adapt to the nest-like shape of her hand, it kept its round structure. It was precisely the temperature of a human body. For an instant, a gentle pulse ran through her – so faint she wondered if it was just the echo of her heartbeat. A delicate shiver ran across her, lifting the tiny hair on her skin. She quickly suppressed it. Not wanting Magnus to notice, Ella masked her discomfort with a casual smile.
She looked away and drew Magnus’s attention to other corners of the store as she pointed toward a mirror. “This mirror, its frame is beautiful.”
“That belonged to a widow who claimed it showed her husband’s face on stormy nights.”
“Did it?” She asked with a suspicious tone.
“I never saw him myself. But I’ve learned not to doubt what feelings can conjure”. Magnus chuckled softly.
Ella laughed, grateful for the shift, letting the tension dissolve like mist.
“Why antiques? What drives you to dedicate your life to collecting them?” she asked, leaning into genuine curiosity.
With a gentle smile, Magnus said, “To me, these objects, these antiques, are more than just relics from the past. Each carries a piece of history, a fragment of lives long forgotten beneath the countless layers of never-ending new events.”
“So it’s not just about the object.” She observes.
“Most people think antiques are just old things,” Magnus said, brushing dust off a wooden box. “But they’re reminders. Of lived experiences.”
Ella glanced at the box. “Like, what kind of experiences?”
He smiled. “Oh, all sorts. A letter tucked inside a drawer. A forgotten scent in the folds of a coat. These objects were there when people laughed, mourned, and waited. Look at this compass from the late 19th century. Imagine the places it has pointed to. How many right and wrong decisions were made after its use? That’s what I mean. They’re reminders of lived experiences, echoes of stories we’ll never fully know. I collect antiques to keep stories alive or to wonder what may have happened.”
Magnus stood up, took a tray from a nearby display case, and handed it to Ella, gently breaking the silence. “Would you like to see this tray? I recently purchased it at auction,” Magnus said.
“Of course,” Ella replied.
“Can you sense its history?” Magnus asked, his voice calm and reverent.
Ella examined the tray closely, tracing its intricate patterns.
“It’s fascinating,” she murmured. “How the handiwork of a new design incorporate elements of its predecessor, bridging the ages.”
Magnus inclined his head, intrigued. “Miss Ninh, considering your curiosity, I risk saying that this place speaks to you; and your observations seem to recognize something about it that suggests a background in the study of the past.”
“I’m an anthropologist,” Ella replied, unable to hide her fascination. Then she continued, “Magnus, as I examine this tray, I’m struck by how much it has been transformed over the years, like each person carries the marks of their past experiences and the influences of those who preceded them,” Ella says as she runs her fingers over the surface of the tray.
“That’s a wise observation, Miss Ninh. How so?” observes Magnus. “It’s a profound thought. Indeed, our lives are shaped by layers of history, ours and others.” Then, with a slight smile, he excused himself and walked deeper into the store, saying he would fetch another antique.
Feeling the warmth of the tea still lingering in her breath, she allowed her tiredness to succumb to the calm. Her eyelids grew heavy. The shop’s atmosphere was soothing, and her mind drifted as she closed her eyes and her body collapsed from exhaustion.
As she suddenly fell fast asleep, she found herself standing before a vast, dark void carved into the face of an imposing rock wall, framed by tangled, low vegetation.
The area seemed untouched for ages, as if time had forgotten it. Yet she was drawn to it irresistibly. Despite its daunting presence, a gentle breeze drifted from within, carrying whispers and a subtle, earthy fragrance that beckoned her forward. The warmth of the air wrapped around her like a comforting shawl, and the moist undergrowth beneath her bare feet felt safe, alive. Her curiosity pulsed like a heartbeat, mingled with a sense of mystery that hung in the air.
As she stepped forward, her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The rough stone walls on either side were damp and uneven, formed by time and pressure. Jagged edges alternated with smoother curves where water had worn the rock away. In places, faint mineral veins caught the little light from behind her, glinting like distant stars in the gloom.
The surface was cold beneath her fingertips, but not unwelcoming – alive, in some strange way, with the weight of centuries. Water dripped in irregular rhythms somewhere in the distance, each drop echoing softly in the stillness like the ticking of an ancient clock. She took more steps toward the darkness.
Then, a sudden shiver of unease gripped her. Her eyes flew open. A sharp “meow” pierced the quiet. A small black cat with green eyes, sat calmly on the counter, watching her.
Still caught between dream and waking, Ella looked around, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, she felt the weight of the vision press against her chest, so vivid, so strange. But then she remembered the subway, the storm outside, and her exhaustion from the day. Maybe the heavy rain, the hum of the train, and her restless thoughts had woven themselves into an odd daydream. That idea brought her a measure of comfort.
“Ah, it seems you’ve met Nyx,” Magnus said, returning. “She has a habit of appearing when we least expect her.”
Ella blinked, trying to gather herself. “She certainly knows how to make an entrance.” she said giving the cat a smile.
Magnus chuckled and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Nyx reminds us not everything has to be wrapped in mystery. Sometimes, the most grounding presence is right in front of us.”
The strange sensation of the dream lingered in Ella’s chest. She pressed her hand gently to her collarbone as if to steady it. Slowly, she stood and swollowed hard.
She wandered back to the front of the shop, the echo of that quiet place still clinging to her senses. She saw the rain had eased into a fine mist through the window. The sky outside was soft with the light of late afternoon.
“I should get going,” she said, gently.
Magnus looked up and gave a slight nod, his eyes filled with understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the emotions swirling within Ella.
“Thank you,” she added. “For the tea.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said.
She smiled faintly and stepped outside. The air was crisp and clean. Water dripped from rooftops in gentle rhythms. The door clicked shut behind her.
She had taken just a few steps when something stirred in her. She turned back, almost without thinking, and opened the door again.
The bells above jingled softly. Magnus looked up, unsurprised.
“Thank you,” she said again, this time with deeper intention.
Before Magnus could respond, she had disappeared down the street. He gently stroked Nyx’s back. The cat purred, her green eyes glinting in the shop’s amber light.
“Well, Nyx,” he murmured, “perhaps she wasn’t ready yet. But she saw more than she realized. She noticed the lineage in those objects; the years layered between them.”
Nyx’s tail flicked once, as if in agreement. Magnus chuckled, “Yes, my friend, not everyone is prepared to face the unknown. But there’s a curiosity in her that even fear can’t extinguish.” And saying so, he gave the cat one last affectionate scratch before standing up. “Let’s give our new guest some time. Some journeys require a little distance before they can truly begin.”
