Bells tinkled as I creaked open the door to a remote tea shop at the end of town. Usually an aroma of tea leaves and incense filled my nose as I entered but today the scent was stagnant, stale. From behind a dense cloud of pungent smoke stood a mystic woman with a cigarette in hand. She leaned on a frail, leathery arm against the faded wood counter as she released a new puff of smoke into the air. The shade from her large woven hat obscured my vision of her face but you could tell that her eyes were intently watching me as I tentatively stepped into the dingy, ageing shop. As the store was old and dying it was rare that anyone besides the regulars ran the it; this woman was new. Brittle grey hair protruded from beneath her hat, frizzing and floating lightly in every which direction. Her gaze from me did not shift, even as I returned eye contact.
"Hello." I mumbled as to make the situation less uncomfortable. She stared for another few seconds before responding with a rasp,
"Hello."
Years of past experiences sculpted her every wrinkle, harsh crevices carving into her delicate, sun damaged skin like erosion across a weathered mountainside. Her clothing and penciled eyebrows depicted that she was most likely in her 70's, as she donned a 40's era style. Between the smoky fume and uneasy stares from the mysterious woman, I decided it would be in my best interest to leave. With one last glance at the peculiar sales person, I strode out into the fresh, crisp fall air.
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