Share this storyDown Devonshire Lane
Willvery town had a population of around four hundred people, one Starbucks and rows of picturesque little shops on every street. Everyone ate at the Downtown Diner on Nickels Road, lunch there too, and dinner in their perfect one story houses with three bedrooms. The children of Willvery went to school half an hour away, at the town nearby. Life was simple and carefree; neighbors were reliable, no need to lock up at night, a hello and a thank you everywhere you go. It was an idyllic little town where everyone was happy.
And one of the exactly 394 people, was Ava Carradine. Another happy Willvery citizen at the young, ripe age of twenty-six. An ordinary girl with chestnut brown hair and mossy green eyes. She was small, five foot four to be precise, and owned a shop just the right size down Devonshire Lane.
Ava's Shop of Collected Second-Hand Items had a glass door that triggered the sound of a silver bell when opened, with a brass doorknob. It was not a large shop, only 400 square feet or so. However that may have been good fortune, for the atmosphere was intimate without making you feel uncomfortable or invaded of personal space. This may well be the reason for the regulars and the newcomers who spend an hour at the least in the shop and visit again only a day or two later, becoming regulars themselves.
People never get bored of Ava's shop. Because people never get bored of the items. Or Ava's stories.






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