Author's Note: I wasn't happy with the original so I played with it a bit. I hope you like it. I think I finally do. Happy Christmas to all. SlV

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The little kids call it the 'Street of Shadows' – a narrow, twisting laneway in the darkest corner of the city. They don't need a parent's warning to avoid it: the broken pavement below dusty storefronts and shuttered windows are forbidding enough to keep them away. Adults too, stay well away from this claustrophobic alley, almost as if their pretending it isn't there will make it so. But exist it does, and every once in awhile you will see someone slip down into the shadows and vanish into a doorway. Never will you see, however, someone emerging into the sunshine from the gloom. Indeed there is nothing normal at all about this street.

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There was an old woman who was a regular visitor to the Street of Shadows. Three or four times a week she walked into the laneway, opened the same door, and went inside. After watching this for several weeks, my curiosity got the better of me, and one morning I followed her.

I didn't think she had noticed me, but she didn't seem surprised when I walked into the third door on the left hand side shortly after she did.

"Good morning!" she said brightly "I'm here when you're ready."

This was the first time I had gotten a good look at her, and in my wildest dreams I never would have had her looking like this. Far from being the bent old hag you associated with a place like this, the woman looked like a grandmother of the avid cookie-baking variety. Small and plump, with rosy cheeks, bright brown eyes, and a warm smile. I began to wonder why this street made everyone so jittery if all the shop proprietors looked like this, but looking around I was reminded with the force of a tonne of bricks being dropped on my head.

Gorgeous antique weapons, jewellery, and valuable looking furniture and artwork shared the cramped space with stuffed animal heads, dusty pottery, and various broken contraptions. Without all the junk, it would have been called an antique store. As it was, I suppose that it could be known as a curiosity shop.

Intrigued, I began to look around. It was then that I became aware of a strange feeling surrounding the various objects, almost as if they were producing their own kind of energy – like a static field. Drawn to one shelf, I searched along it until I found what had been calling to me – a beautifully lacquered jewel box containing a diamond and pearl necklace with matching earrings and hair combs. Placing the heavy necklace around my own throat, I turned to look into full-length mirror that I had skirted to reach the shelf – and had my biggest shock yet.

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I was twirling around a ballroom in a complicated sort of waltz. The people around me wore white-powdered wigs, voluminous ball gowns, and jewellery like the set I was now wearing. My feet moved lightly for me in the steps, my mouth made polite conversation. I realized slowly that I had no control over my movements and was simply an observer, watching the ball through someone else's eyes.

My head turned toward a corner removed from the festivities, and fear raced through me. Two men dressed in the same fashion as my partner were talking away from the dancers, when one quietly took out a stiletto and slid it between the other's ribs.

In horror, 'I' pulled away from my partner. I let out a strangled cry as my necklace caught and came away, and I fell backwards. The strange little shop appeared around me once more, and I reached out a hand to break my fall. I grabbed hold of an old spinning wheel and in the process, pricked several of my fingers.

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I was seated on a low stool in what looked like a kitchen. 'My' hands were working at the spinning wheel, a basket of wool still to be spun rested beside me. The small house was quiet, and it was really quite peaceful. Suddenly, a log burst in the hearth, sending a shower of sparks into the basket of raw wool, setting it alight. Unable to control my own movements, I sat rigid as the flames grew, licking towards my skirts and the dry wood of the wheel. Then, out of the blue, I felt a hand close around mine.

*                      *                      *

I sat shaking on the dusty floor of the curiosity shop, the older woman still holding my hand. When I recovered my voice enough to ask, she sat quiet for a moment before answering.

"Most deal with goods, or ideas, or hard cash. I deal in something quite different. You see dear, this isn't a shop. It's more of a bank – a safe keeping place for valuables. Except these valuables don't come as something you can touch, so we need keys to contain them."

Fully appreciating now how full the shop really was, I looked around and whispered, "How old are they?"

She laughed, a warm chuckle that brought a shy smile to my face. "They can't hear you, dear. And to answer your question, they range from yesterday to older than I am – which is not as young as you may think!"

I laughed too. Then, some urge made me look at my watch. I noticed that I had lost it somewhere – probably in my fall – but a grandfather clock told me I had been there for over an hour. I apologized to her and told her I would leave.

"Oh don't worry about me, dear," she said, "you can leave whenever you want to. I have all the time in the world."

Even still, I felt bad for intruding and began to head to the door.

"Oh no, no." She stopped me. "I like people to feel better after they've been here. Too good to go back into that dark old alley."

She led me into the back room – which was crammed even fuller than the front – and showed me a wooden door. I pushed it open, and as I turned to say goodbye, she smiled and said, "Though full might your mind be, you'll know where to find me!" Then the door closed, and all traces of it vanished into the brick wall. I stood in the sunny street, staring at nothing.

*                      *                      *

I did go back down the Street of Shadows after that day. I went twice, and neither time did I see the little bank – just a boarded up storefront with a dusty "For Lease" sign.

And I never did find the watch that I had been wearing that day. Not that I mind, for I no longer see the accident when I close my eyes. I have a hunch that my watch is better off where it is.