Dreaming of Ancient Astronauts Again

tikal1p
Tikal, Capital of the Maya

[Writing Prompt: Someone goes into a unique store and buys an odd item time = 15 minutes]

The door stuck at her efforts to pull it open. A foot against the wall finally helped pry it open, revealing the remnants of a long forgotten book store. She allowed the sunlight to fill the doorway.

The store, a victim of a block wide fire some 23 years ago now, once served as the only rare and occult bookstore on this side of the bay. The owners dissipated along with the inventory. Many accuse them of arson but with no one to ask, there was no way to prove it.

Abandoned then, she felt free to rummage through the scarred remains hoping she would find the missing top piece to the sacred pipe she found last week in a unique store off the California coast. It’s ancient owner swore the other half was sent east to this address. So if it was here, if it didn’t get consumed in the flames, snatched by looters, or exposed to the mold and mildew, there was a chance she could call the spirit brothers forward.

This is odd, she thought as she carefully peeled away burnt layers from covered piles. Why would the pipe pieces be in North America, when the gateway is in South America? And why separate? The old man in California didn’t offer much in words, but she remembered him directing a sigh of relief at her once the purchase was final. As if the carved bowl, festooned with glyphs and constellations, had been a life long burden in his possession, a grim and heavy weight that she alleviated, albeit naively, for him. 

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