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The Ointment Store

Beginnings

added 16 years ago AR AP BM S TG

It was 6:30 in the evening and I was in the process of warming up some left over Spaghetti for dinner. I leaned up against the counter waiting for the microwave to finish. As always, my mind began to wander. I had lived in this house now for almost a year. It was a small, split level that I shared with a roommate, Eric. I was already a sophomore in college, studying Commercial Aviation (learning to be an airline pilot).

*beep, beep, beep*

My spaghetti was done. I sat down at the table just as Eric came through the door.

"Josh, ya home?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen!"

I heard Eric messing with something in the entryway, probably his coat and shoes, before he came wandering into the kitchen with a good sized box in his arms.

"What have you got there?"

"Oh, I found this quaint little shop down in Chinatown. Run by an old Oriental guy. Its small, but the shop is loaded with weird vials and balms and who knows what else. The guy claims that they are more than just aphrodisiacs and medicines. He claims they can bring fantasies alive."

"Oh really?" I said sarcastically. "Like a potion will give me a million dollars?"

"Not quite. I really don't know what he meant, but he loaded me up with all this for next to nothing. I figured they could do little harm."

He went to his room after that, and that was the last I saw and heard of those 'potions' for a few weeks.

However, as the second semester continued to unfold, I found my mind returning to the box, wondering what was in there and if they did anything. As usual, Eric had set them in a corner in the basement and had forgotten all about them. If I went down and had a look, even took a couple, there would be no way he would know, if he even looked at them again... Wait, what am I thinking. I've got to concentrate on my studying, otherwise, I'm going to bomb this test. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept wandering. So, I decided I'd better look and then I would know there was nothing special about those vials and I could go back to studying.

As I made my way downstairs, I checked to see if Eric was home. Nope, he must be either at the Library or at his lady friend's house, a.k.a. the Library.

There it was, the box, set aside in a corner gathering dust. Typical. I peered inside and, instead of seeing a disorganized tumble of random objects, I saw a very clean, well laid out assortment of vials. As I examined them, I saw all kinds of different colors. There were different labels on the vials too.

I pulled one out and looked at it.


What do you do now?


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