narrative; delyth davies WHO: Delyth Davies (open if anyone wishes to) WHEN: Saturday morning, following the nightly walk. WHERE: Davies Art & Design. SUMMARY: Del opens the shop for the day. WARNINGS: None that I can think of.
Almost as soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs Delyth wished that she had put her coffee into a regular mug instead of the travel mug that she typically used. It was the logical choice, naturally, the one that would kee the coffee from spilling everywhere should it tip, but right now it was also deeply insulated and she wanted the warmth of the beverage seeping through glass or pottery and into her chilled fingers to warm her up a bit.
The night had been cold.
And not just in the way of temperature. She had woken slightly past two with a deep feeling of dread and had not been able to get herself back to sleep. Used to, she had been able to fall asleep on a whim, but now if she woke… well, she was awake and that had been how this morning had gone. It was still early to open the shop, really, but there were times that she kept the hours she wanted to keep and this was one of them. Her apartments upstairs were empty, and she couldn't shake the chill.
Still - it was early, so she didn't flip the sign to open just yet. Instead she went around the shop, wiping up any messes, straightening merchandise, replacing a sale sign that had been for last week but hadn't been removed. Finally she stopped on the display near the register- the one that had her jewelry and lotion designs - and she straightened the bracelets before she moved to the necklaces.
She arranged these, finally slipping a small silver chain with a black tourmaline crystal off the rack, and fastening it around her neck.
She took a breath, and then moved back towards the door.
The front room always felt a little chill first thing in the morning and it would warm up as the sun came round, wouldn't it, and she could drink her coffee, and that would also help. Whatever had woken her last night had faded away, and what she could still feel seemed to be merely after effects now.
The sign was flipped, and she unlocked the giant bolts that kept the door closed. She should perhaps invest in something more significant, but this was Repose, not New York City, and after all, the shop was warded so perhaps those giant bolts were good enough. She opened the door glanced down main street - which seemed calm - and after taking a deep breath of the spring air, she went back in to find her coffee.
She could work on inventory for the yarn while she drank her coffee and waited for people to get up and began wandering in. Sure it was earlier than usual hours, but someone passing by to get coffee might well see the open sign and stop in to get their supplies for the weekends project. She wrapped her hands around the coffee mug and took a sip, and then along with it picked up the clipboard with the printed lists and the pen beside that, and headed for the yarn section to begin the day's work - the old fashioned way - magic was for a moment when you didn't need something to keep your mind busy.