Lossiemouth Town was one of those towns that didn't get much attention. Like an owl, the town was a quiet place, but still had the vibrant atmosphere amongst the people that lived there.
Sometime ago, the town connected to the road as people would travel by car and always pass by the town at some point and at the time, it was a lucrative business, making experience for small businesses to make a living. However, due to new plans that arrived to make changes for a new one (a new road), and when it was done, it quickly became apparent that the flow of opportunities wasn't in their favour for the Lossiemouth inhabitants. A year after and the town is slowly turning into a dead zone. Of course, they still get visitors from time to time, but only in small-to-no-more than 10 or fewer.
Located in a plain field and some trees on sight of the town, the area should look the part interesting at a tourists point of view, although, it is blind sighted by numerous vegetation. The only thing that could indicate a town, showed the once familiar old road connected to the main road, rigid, rough and a bit haunting.
Making an option to run the place would take serious hands.
Although, what does keep the town running is the taxes earned from a large company that set their roots a three months ago; and also a bunch of old timers who don't want yo close their businesses that early or even hand over land in that regard.
Bluehands craft is one of those businesses. Built since the 1900s, the building has stood for many years. As cheaply made looking as it be, having been downgraded - patched up sometime ago - the shop has a proud character and the owner of the shop who runs it.
It is even recognised as one of the oldest, making it common knowledge to the people around the town, most especially the traditional owners of the other shops and buildings. Proud and strong, the owner is also leader of the CTR, a union part of the protection of their Town.
Unfortunately, the owner, an old man by now, is nowhere near his prime. His days as a leader are only a crumbling landslide. Nor among his peers as he once was.
But maybe there's hope. Hope for the town. A new generation for a leader; a younger, more capable, and disciplined person. A girl perhaps?
~~~~~~
"Huhhhh," a girl yawned.
"I'm so sleepy," the girl said again, "Why did mom and dad send me here to grandpa. It's so boring."
'Like I'm not mad, or something, it's just it would have been more of a better choice to spend my holiday normally - somewhere extravagant,' the girl looked up the ceiling.
"I even prepared for that one trip..."
Staring at the ceiling, the girl's facial expression morphed into a mixture of anger and frustration.
"Huhhhhhh, stop thinking about it Lora!" the girl, named Lora complained, brushing her hair into a messy chore.
For her troublesome behaviour, Lora's head faced the reception table, her cheeks against the surface, and the coldness of the table sipping into her skin.
"It's not fair," She said like a child about to cry.
Lora is currently the receptionist at bluehand crafts. Although she isn't the older type when it comes to being employed, she is just watching the place, waiting for the other guy that works there to come back and take over - he owner of bluehand crafts.
Of course that wouldn't be the case because the man is old, and at times, forgetful as an old timer should be. Instead, there is family person that has taken time to integrate.
Lora, the receptionist, is the granddaughter of bluehand crafts. And is living her new life at Lossiemouth town. That is if she enjoys it.
But under all the excitement is a gloomy and depressed Lora.
Not long ago, Lora had it all planned out. She was going to travel. She was going to places she's never seen before - experiencing things only seem in movies. It was the perfect plan.
Until her parents decided otherwise.
She hated the fact that she had to spend her days roaming a town that she has been to, not once, twice or thrice, but nearly her entire life since the age of six.
She wanted to travel to Paris or Tokyo, maybe.
The travel was an all school paid trip to a country of choice, which the school voted on. Lora was 14 of age. She was to be escorted on her way with her aunt. They even contacted her family before the due date. But alas, the young girl had no authority to convince her parents, and just a few weeks after schooling she was already on a bus to visit her grandparents.
"What to do?" Lora asked herself. She uphold herself back on her seat.
Loneliness. Boredem. Exceeding lack of entertainment. These were the feelings that she is dealing with. Many times she's been there, she could recall it so clearly. Bluehand craft shop looked like a bitter sweet memory in the eyes only to smudged back in her face. An old antique shops, it was.
Regardless of Lora's standing position, the girl stepped out of her boring-so seat and comfortably scanned the interior. The insides were the same to he.r. Lines of bookshelves. Wooden figures - bear, fox, etc. Even a flock of mechanical clocks shoved to a rear corner.
Her time being there, as boring as it was to her, made think. There she grabbed a book by the shelves, needless to say, indulged in a bit of reading to soath out her own dilemma.
"The Way Life is; and How it should be," Lora read the title of the book.
The title, after read, spawned thoughts that wandered in Lora's mind.
"What a fine book," Lora said casually.
'What a piece of rotten tomatoes.' Her thoughts in unison with her spoken words. A contradiction of terms side by side.
The book was then put back to where it belonged - not once attempted. It seemed unfair. For Lora to just pick it up and read the title by the title, and set aside without giving it a try because of a feeling, then it didn't do right for her.
When the tip of her finger nails left the cover of the book, a suden loud burst came through the main door.
BAM!
The two-way door frames slammed the interior wall, in a 180 degree angle.
"Lora! It's evident that I speak to you!" The voice of someone calling Lora entered the shop.
Lora had no complaint. Although a little Hesitant and scared at first, she knew who it was, and how proper to handle the matter at a moments notice. It was a her and a good friend. Maybe, too good.
"What is it Yellen?" Lora asked her good friend, "I don't think now is the time to be here."
"But it's really important!"
"Really?"
"Yes!" Yellen nodded.
It is then Lora got back to her original sitting place and asked why.
"How so," she said.
But before Yellen could say anything else; the thing that she wanted to say the most when she kicked the front doors open hurling like a boomerang. Quiet frankly, it donned on her that very memory vanished at the last second. It was then, at a moments glance, that Yellen's mind went completely blank (that thing she wanted to tell Lora) having her completely forget the whole reason she came at the shop in the first place.
"Auhhhhhhhmmm.....wait, what was it again," Yellen said confusingly.
On the other hand, Lora is waiting for an answer from her as her elbows touch the table and her moody face overwhelm her.
Still thinking about what to say, Yellen could not hold no longer and instead said the other way around.
"So, uhmmmm,.....I think I forget what to say," the girl said truthfully.
"Huhhhhh," Lora sighed.
'That's Yellen for you,'
Lora didn't take it seriously. She wasn't angry. As her friend, she knew her very well and that she had a tendency of short-term memory loss; Hence, why she didn't answer. But after all that, it didn't take long for the atmosphere in the shop to start-up bright.
"So, what's with you," Yellen casually asked Lora, "You MUST be having fun. At my place, it isn't very nice."
'Fun?!' Lora's thought where in chaos, 'I would say that it's the most boring place in the world!'
From the words that Yellen spouted, Lora didn't take it kindly. She disagreed on the term fun if anyone was near enjoying life the same she was as of right now.
She hated it. Wouldn't even show it. Only kept it within because Yellen was around.
To Lora, Yellen was a kind and innocent person. They grew up together. Although they only met during holidays, Lora has learnt some things to keep in mind when interacting with her:
1. She is an innocent girl.
2. She has a right-wing and strict family.
3. Her father is mostly the backbone of their foundation, so don't think messing around.
4. People think she is dumb, but she is just inexperienced to the world.
5. And finally, she wasn't much of a talker (though she changed after meeting Lora).
Yellen began to add as Lora listened, "At my place, I help out with my mother with the chores. Sometimes even more and go to the farmhouse to look after the animals," she went on to talk about her usual goings to Lora.
While Lora has her ears wide open, she interpreted her words differently - and not in a bad way. Lora just thought otherwise of what Yellen was telling her. She even visited her place. It was a nice place, though. Seeing a real farmhouse and living in the countryside, it was something new for Lora to experience, because she only knew city life; her viewpoint of the world never did come as quite extensive as she would have thought. It could even be said that she was in the same boat as Yellen.
When Yellen came to a stop, Lora replied softly, "I see," one of her hands grooming her chin.
Then it fell quiet - no one replied.
It might seem like both of them came to a conclusion, but just over to Yellen's side, Lora had almost assumed that Yellen had her puppy eyes pleading with her for something.
"Do you want to tour the place?" Lora asked.
"What?!" Yellen's face glowed brightly red. "I can tour the shop. The great Bluehands shop."
"Yes, if you want to....Besides, I'm here alone, so a little company with you won't be a problem."
"Really!"
"Yes. I certainly agree," Lora scarcely laughed.
Lora then let Yellen in.
Although she already entered the shop, Lora did it in a way to welcome her as a more pleasing sentiment. For the first time in her life, Yellen wanted to see.
The girl is excited.
She spends her time carefully and marvelously soaking in the experience she never thought of having to do.
As the day was about to end, the clock nearing five, the shop closed effectively on the clock.
"There we go," Lora said, lowering the shutters and locking them. Lora and Yellen then walked alongside each.