The Perilous little toy shop

"I am so late," Grant says in an anxious tone , grabbing his jacket on the stand. He woke up early as per usual but seeing that there was still time , he did his daily routine of tinkering at the workbench. It was only when the church bell rang at noon did he realized the time. He unlocked the front door of the store and bolt straight for the park. Sure , he was suspicious of the stranger and was a bit creep out but his natural curiosity overcame his fears and he just had to know more about her. Rehearsing the apology he had came up with while on the way , he saw her.

It felt so surreal, almost like a dream. The smell of freshly cut grass was still present in the air and the sun hung over their heads yet no discomfort of heat was felt. She was sitting under a great oak tree on a small hill in the middle of the park, a small basket by her side. She didn't seem to notice him at all , her eyes were staring at the horizon. Sad eyes which would make any man approach her and try to make her worries go away.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting , I lose track of time sometimes. Not a good excuse I know but I hope you can forgive me," he apologizes , taking a sit in the shade.

"Its fine , your work must be important to you, I completely understand. I am just glad you came. Come , grab something to eat," she gave a faint smile , reaching into the basket and handing him a sandwich.

"Well, it isn't everyday a stranger walks into my store and offer me lunch the next day, your husband is a lucky man."

Grant munched away at the sandwich, there was something familiar about the woman that he couldn't quite place his finger on. He felt warmth in his stomach when he was around her. But whereas the warmth he feels while doing his work was intense and suffocating at times , hers was different , almost like a feeling of home.

"Yes , I guess he is , and he is also the reason I asked you out today. See , there was a stuffed toy he gave me long ago , back when we weren't so well off , but it has been with me throughout our marriage. Its quite ragged now but I refuse to let it go."

"And you want me to fix it," Grant says as his eyes lit up.

"Look at you , all cheery when talking about work," she laughed lightly before reverting to her sad self, "money wouldn't be a problem , I just want it back to its former glory. I had other toy makers try but as it was so ragged and old and they had never seen its original condition before , they lacked the skills to do it."

"And what made you think I can succeed where others have failed?" He grinned while reaching for a third sandwich.

"Not to stroke your ego , but with the amount of times your welcome bell dings , you are the best man to ask. The man who can craft anything to make children smile, they call you. Your kids would be the luckiest children in town," She brushed her dress while she got up, "Well , if you would be interested to try , I could bring it to you tomorrow night. Forgive me , I have thought of it but it is something I hold to sleep so bring it out in the open here would be quite embarrassing."

He strolled along the street-side, trying to remember when the last time he had a picnic. Everyday , he toiled at the workshop , hardly ever having the time to leave , let alone a break. Thankfully , beside any master craftsman was a thoughtful assistant , as a well prepared meal was always present at the counter. By the time he managed to tear himself off his work , his assistant was already away on other chores , carefully not to disturb his work.

By the time he reached the doorstep , the sun was already setting. He sighed , walking into the shop, there would be no sleep tonight. The voice will ensure it.

"About time you got back, any later and your skills might start rusting," It mocked.

"Relax, that's the only rest i am going to get for a very long time. Besides going out from time to time for inspiration is rather nice. I will get the work done, I promise." Grant muttered, shuffling to his workbench.

"Inspiration? rest? You don't need those things remember? You have me, a gift that those novice craftsmen would sell their soul to the devil to obtain if they had the chance. Do you want to be reduced to that state? So unskilled and inept that others would only glare at you with contempt. Now get back to work!"

The voice demanded and despite it being in his head, the voice seems to be echoing throughout the room, overwhelming his senses. Grant got back to work reluctantly.

It was the only thing he knew that stops it.