23A Liver Street

Quote of the day, by yours truly:
"It feels like there's a hole in my heart without you." 
"Really? You should probably get an echocardiogram."


Am I killing the romance? Sorry.

And now in honor of Valentine's Day this week, a story about the heart...

 
                                                                                     ~~~

     The little silver bell above the door on 23A Liver Street jangled as the door opened. A young woman in a large brown coat that completely hid her figure and dark glasses that did the same with her face walked carefully through the racks of herbs and spices to the little counter at the back.
     The man behind the counter closed the cracked, leather bound book he was reading, but saved his place with his forefinger. He looked to be older than the book himself and was also beginning to yellow around the edges.
     "What is it?" he asked.
     "I was wondering," she said, then paused to bite at one plump red lip, "do you carry..." She began to sweat, the damp glow visible on her forehead. Fine tremors ran through her fingers before she pressed them against the dark wood of the counter. Still, the shopkeeper watched her, patiently, his book in his hand.
     "I need a heart," she said in a shotgun blast of speech. "Do you have one?"
     The shopkeeper gave a nod. "You'd better come around back," he said, nodding toward the end of the counter as he turned to the door behind him. The back room was twice as large again as the front, and while the front had smelled of herb and spice and must, the back smelled more of damp earth and metal. It was also cold, enough so that her breath billowed up in front of her face.
     The shopkeeper took her past rows of shelves covered in neat white sheets. She shivered. At the very back stood a narrow table, also covered. The shopkeeper pulled the sheet aside and let it drop to the floor. Ten glass jars sat on top of the table. Each jar was filled with a thick liquid that bubbled gently, and to each was affixed a neat label. She bent closer, studying each specimen carefully.
     In the first jar on the left, the organ was transparent so she could see straight through it. The label read: Glass - handle with care at all times; avoid sudden changes. The next jar was covered in fine crystals of lace-like frost. The liquid inside was frozen solid, but the organ still beat, pale blue and steady. Ice - WARNING: long term exposure may lead to permanent damage; use with extreme caution. The next in line had settled in the bottom of the jar and was a peculiar gray that had stained the liquid around it. Lead - ideal for poets and gothic writers; it is softer than it appears; do not drop. She took a step closer as she moved down the line. The next heart glowed deep ruby red with every beat, immediately catching her eye. She pulled her eyes away to read the label. Courage - not for common use; may result in actions that lead to personal harm WARNING: NOT bulletproof. She shook her head slowly and moved to the next jar where a perfect heart appeared to have been sculpted out of pink marble. Stone - inflexible; may be used when heavy blows are expected.
     "I think I'd like this one," she said, tapping the jar with her fingernail. With her left thumb, she absently felt the gold band around the third finger.
     "Might have a look at the others first," the shopkeeper said as he looked up from his book, which he had brought with him.
     She pulled her coat closer around herself as she peered at the next jar. A soft yellow glow filled the liquid, which bubbled faster than the others, fizzing like fresh soda as the heart floated near the top. Light - ideal for most situations if coupled with good sense (not included). The next heart floated in what looked, and smelled, like maple syrup. Wrinkling her nose, she read: Sweet - may be used regardless of age or appearance; requires an individual match. The next heart appeared damaged, squeezing out vast amounts of fluid with every contraction and filling the jar with thick, red fluid. Bleeding - high capacity for empathy; ideal for healthcare professionals and missionaries. And the next lay again in the bottom of the jar, gleaming even in the rather poor light. Gold - retains long term value and malleability according to situation. WARNING: Fool's Gold may resemble superficial characteristics, but is nonmalleable and brittle.
     "What'll you have?" the shopkeeper asked as she straightened.
     "How much does this one cost?" she asked, pointing the jar labeled Gold.
     "You've got a good eye," he said with a salesman's nod of approval. "That'll be the top of the line." He looked at her more closely. "Are you sure you want it? It's not for everyone. Some people find it too hard to live with a heart like that, understand?"
     "I understand," she said. "How much?"
     He told her the price, and she pulled a roll of cash from her pocket, peeling off bills one by one until a small pile lay on the table. He counted it again, thumbing through the bills with yellowing fingers, then tucked the stack into his book. Pulling on a glove, he took the golden heart from its jar and wrapped it carefully in brown paper, tying it securely with twine.
     "Anything else I can get you?" he asked as she lifted the package and slipped it beneath her coat.
     "No, thank you," she said. She left the cold back room and made her way out of the shop at 23A Liver Street with her new heart tucked safely next to her chest.