Beneath the Smog Prologue Rays of sun flooded the room, drowning out the darkness with exorbitant colors. In the light of the early morning, sweet smells from the adjacent bakers shop drifted through the kaleidoscopic windows, filling the small shop with the aroma of newly baked breads and pastries. The owner had not yet arrived—he was still in bed, subdued by the bleak charcoal sky he saw outside his window. He didn't yet know the sky was not bleak, but only the light moving through the moth dusted curtains of his antique room was. Back at his store, there lay shelves of the most wonderful magical things: Puzzles, dolls, realistic gold coins, flowing out of the handpainted and lively barrel in which they lay. Closer to the counter, a wealth of chocolate and nuts sat pristine, refilled for the day and thus far untouched by the small hands that would quickly take them. The light moved slowly up the shelving; each new row being revealed as if it had just plopped into existence, the sun creating wonders unbeknownst to even itself. Sitting quaint on the topmost of these shelves, was a modest and rather discarded looking bear. His name was Bear. Unlike most things on this planet that are intimate, he could think, understand, and even with time, love. He had seen many rises of the sun, for him it meant not the beginning of another mindless day, but a reminder of his neverending optimism and desires. It was a new day, a new chance to be loved. The owner came in later, the sun now having fully risen above the windows of the store front, bright light now coming through the skylight. He was an older fellow, the hairs on his beard and head had long ago turned grey, then fallen off. His skin wrinkled, finally falling to gravity, sinking back to the earth, slowly moving down. He had eyes that were once a bright ocean blue, finally completing their transition to a pale white as his skin now is from lack of outdoor activities. He had the same routine every day, whether the weather was cold or warm, it did not matter. Walk in, turn the lights on, get the register ready, open the doors for the first guests. And they came quickly after, hordes of people enjoying the gifts, purchasing the toys, finding joy in the lost memories of their childhoods. The day moved quickly, turning into weeks and months—the shopkeeper now had help and with that help the store grew bigger; expansions, remodels, and yet a small Bear remained on the top shelf of the shop, unnoticed, unseen. It was a brittle winter's day, as nonfantastical bleak charcoal sky sauntered across the gloomy town. The man who was dedicated to his work had come in early, to no avail as the store remained deathly quiet, the sound of the bakery next door closing up eerily loud. Then the chimes rang and a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties and a young child, excited to the brim walked in. "Hello, may I assist you in your shopping today?” The older man asked, his voice showing of age yet still excited as ever.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTIxNjAyMw==