Most of the time I can tune out any given store's droning background soundtrack simply with the buzzing of my internal thoughts, but not this. The so-called music in Sheol's Department Store, a jangling collection of chords that occasionally represented some demented electronic keyboardist's version of a pop song from the seventies, cut right through my normal wall of inattention and placed a murdered "Ziggy Stardust" into the forefront of my conscious.
This was only my second time in Sheol's, the first when I was only a little child and my mother came here in search of Christmas presents. I didn't remember the result of that trip other than a tie that mother got for my father; he killed himself while wearing that tie. I'd never thought anything of not ever returning until I stepped in again. Maybe it had been the tie, but that didn't seem like my mother. No, my guess was that Sheol's was a hole as the reason for her never returning.
It's quite possible that Sheol's had consulted the best in fashion, compared it to what was simply popular and then intentionally developed clothing lines that were intended not only counter those movements, but also cause headaches when gazing on them. I was amazed that there weren't wannabe hipsters lined up around the block trying to get in. I quickened my pace to get past the racks. Thankfully my goal was not sartorial today. I was in search of stranger artifacts.
While I, and I presume Mother, had only been to Sheol's once. It was apparently a place my father came to regularly. Perhaps that's why Mother came with me here for gifts. My father's entire tool set, which I still owned, was made up of Miskatonic Tools, the brand Sheol's had come up with for their assortment of hardware. The tools were well made and strong, though something in the metal always gave them an odd sheen and they had a peculiar quality to them. Miskatonic offered a full line of tools for every project, but the design of the tools was always a little non-standard.
Imagine a regular workshop hand saw for wood. But instead of the familiar triangle-shaped blade, imagine a curved shape to it with teeth cut to look almost biological. As if the saw were some metal jaw torn from some terrible beast and given a handle that just happened to be convenient for sawing wood. In fact, the entire line, though made of metal and plastic, had this organic feel to it as though the tools had been grown rather than manufactured. At times, using such tools would give me chills.
But one of those tools, had in fact broken, and I had returned to Sheol's to make good on their lifetime guarantee of Miskatonic's tools and see what I could do about
This was only my second time in Sheol's, the first when I was only a little child and my mother came here in search of Christmas presents. I didn't remember the result of that trip other than a tie that mother got for my father; he killed himself while wearing that tie. I'd never thought anything of not ever returning until I stepped in again. Maybe it had been the tie, but that didn't seem like my mother. No, my guess was that Sheol's was a hole as the reason for her never returning.
It's quite possible that Sheol's had consulted the best in fashion, compared it to what was simply popular and then intentionally developed clothing lines that were intended not only counter those movements, but also cause headaches when gazing on them. I was amazed that there weren't wannabe hipsters lined up around the block trying to get in. I quickened my pace to get past the racks. Thankfully my goal was not sartorial today. I was in search of stranger artifacts.
While I, and I presume Mother, had only been to Sheol's once. It was apparently a place my father came to regularly. Perhaps that's why Mother came with me here for gifts. My father's entire tool set, which I still owned, was made up of Miskatonic Tools, the brand Sheol's had come up with for their assortment of hardware. The tools were well made and strong, though something in the metal always gave them an odd sheen and they had a peculiar quality to them. Miskatonic offered a full line of tools for every project, but the design of the tools was always a little non-standard.
Imagine a regular workshop hand saw for wood. But instead of the familiar triangle-shaped blade, imagine a curved shape to it with teeth cut to look almost biological. As if the saw were some metal jaw torn from some terrible beast and given a handle that just happened to be convenient for sawing wood. In fact, the entire line, though made of metal and plastic, had this organic feel to it as though the tools had been grown rather than manufactured. At times, using such tools would give me chills.
But one of those tools, had in fact broken, and I had returned to Sheol's to make good on their lifetime guarantee of Miskatonic's tools and see what I could do about
