Angela stepped up to the door and took hold of the sparkling, crystal knob. She turned it and pushed the door open.
She stopped in the doorway, staring. And listening.
She could hear the sounds better now. They were like the delicate, quiet notes that a music box would play. But there was no tune. At least none that Angela could recognize. It was more like wind chimes than a music box. It made Angela want to step through the door.
But what she saw made her pause.
It was nighttime, of course, but there was light in the stairway in front of her. An odd kind of light. It looked like a ghost or an angel had breathed out and covered everything with a soft, pale, sea-green color. It was beautiful.
But curious and strange.
Just like the name of the shop, Angela thought.
The stairway at her feet led downward. Except for the ghostly light, it looked like the stairs that led to the Lower Arcade in the daytime Market. But it was in the wrong place. It shouldn’t be inside a tiny shop. It should be across the street in the Main Arcade.
Angela knew the Lower Arcade like the back of her own hand. It was her favorite part of Pike Place Market. And that gave her the courage to see where the stairs would lead.
At the bottom of the stairs everything was familiar and strange at the same time. It made Angela nervous.
She looked at her watch. It had stopped.
That made her even more nervous.
She was about to turn around and run back up the stairs and out to the street. But the shining, sea-green light gathered in swirls and made her want to follow it.
Angela walked over to the first store on the right. She wasn’t old enough to buy wine, but during the day she liked looking at the rows and rows of bottles with labels from all over the world.
It should have been the wine shop there, the first store on the right.
But it wasn’t.