a well-deserved gift
[ A few days ago, Mr. Magorium was met with the surprise of his life.
And, given how long a life his has been, it was some surprise.]
Edward Magorium steps outside of his toy store and home in proper gear this afternoon. His scarf is candy-cane striped, his jacket is puffy and brown, and his shoes are-well, the same. His toes are freezing, but that's no matter, because today is a very big day for him. He doesn't mind the cold toes or the way the breeze is making his hair stand further up than usual; his mind is focused on one thing and one thing only.
It's time to re-open his store.
He's long forgotten how it felt to run the store on his own and Mahoney's absence is weighing heavily on his heart, but he's managed to get everything as organized as it should be. There's even a "HELP WANTED" sign in the window, scribbled in multicolored ink.
In his arms sits a pile of papers, each a different color, all advertising the grand re-opening of Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. He waits for a particularly strong gust of wind, then smiles and tosses the stack into the air. The people on the sidewalk all stop when they see the fliers take wing, mouths slowly opening at the sight of each one literally flying to their intended spots: a telephone pole here, a wall there, under a car's windshield wiper...
Mr. Magorium stuffs his hands into his pockets and grins. "The store is officially open! Come one, come all, to the Wonder Emporium!"
And with that, he disappears back inside the small, colorful building that's nestled comfortably between a real estate office and a high-rise apartment.
The curious will find what looks like a toy store at first glance, but is much, much more. It's magical in every sense of the word. The balls bounce of their own accord, the teddy bears hug back, the planes fly, and the puppets dance. Blocks hobble around, waiting to become part of something great; toy soldiers march across counter tops; the fire engines squirt water onto plastic fires. Children and adults alike are welcome to play with whatever they like, free of charge. There's a spot for reading (and you can get any book you want, seriously, just ask), a spot for painting, a spot for building. There's the Door of Rooms, which opens to whatever the dial is set to, and the dial settings depend on who wants to open it. There's a wall of stuffed animals, each one waiting for a new friend.
It's everything your young imagination ever dreamed of and wished for. When you step inside, no matter how bad a day you've had or what's chasing you, all those feelings and monsters will disappear. It's impossible (no, really) to be unhappy here. This is a safe space, perhaps the safest, and Mr. Magorium is happy to offer it to anyone who wants to come inside and remember how it feels to be young again, to anyone who wants to-at least temporarily-let go.
And, given how long a life his has been, it was some surprise.]
Edward Magorium steps outside of his toy store and home in proper gear this afternoon. His scarf is candy-cane striped, his jacket is puffy and brown, and his shoes are-well, the same. His toes are freezing, but that's no matter, because today is a very big day for him. He doesn't mind the cold toes or the way the breeze is making his hair stand further up than usual; his mind is focused on one thing and one thing only.
It's time to re-open his store.
He's long forgotten how it felt to run the store on his own and Mahoney's absence is weighing heavily on his heart, but he's managed to get everything as organized as it should be. There's even a "HELP WANTED" sign in the window, scribbled in multicolored ink.
In his arms sits a pile of papers, each a different color, all advertising the grand re-opening of Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. He waits for a particularly strong gust of wind, then smiles and tosses the stack into the air. The people on the sidewalk all stop when they see the fliers take wing, mouths slowly opening at the sight of each one literally flying to their intended spots: a telephone pole here, a wall there, under a car's windshield wiper...
Mr. Magorium stuffs his hands into his pockets and grins. "The store is officially open! Come one, come all, to the Wonder Emporium!"
And with that, he disappears back inside the small, colorful building that's nestled comfortably between a real estate office and a high-rise apartment.
The curious will find what looks like a toy store at first glance, but is much, much more. It's magical in every sense of the word. The balls bounce of their own accord, the teddy bears hug back, the planes fly, and the puppets dance. Blocks hobble around, waiting to become part of something great; toy soldiers march across counter tops; the fire engines squirt water onto plastic fires. Children and adults alike are welcome to play with whatever they like, free of charge. There's a spot for reading (and you can get any book you want, seriously, just ask), a spot for painting, a spot for building. There's the Door of Rooms, which opens to whatever the dial is set to, and the dial settings depend on who wants to open it. There's a wall of stuffed animals, each one waiting for a new friend.
It's everything your young imagination ever dreamed of and wished for. When you step inside, no matter how bad a day you've had or what's chasing you, all those feelings and monsters will disappear. It's impossible (no, really) to be unhappy here. This is a safe space, perhaps the safest, and Mr. Magorium is happy to offer it to anyone who wants to come inside and remember how it feels to be young again, to anyone who wants to-at least temporarily-let go.