The candles burned low and patient, their wax curling into feather-shapes that drifted gently before vanishing midair. The Polaroids sang—a soft, wordless sound that changed key when the sun moved across the windows. The scent of steeped rosehips and burnt lavender clung to the air.
Veronica stood at the center of it all, sleeves rolled, flannel tied at her waist.
She was rethreading the “Lesser Hexes and Delicate Inconveniences” shelf, carefully sorting between salt jars that spit when shaken and matchbooks that lit the wrong way up.
“We need to talk about the potion shelf,” she muttered, placing a jar labeled Patience (Delayed) onto the middle tier. “Something’s moved. Again.”
Juniper, currently sprawled upside-down in the reading nook with a tarot deck scattered across his chest, lifted a lazy hand.
“Not it.”
“You’re literally the only one who blinks things off shelves when you’re bored.”
“Boredom is sacred,” he replied, flipping a card and squinting at it. “Ooh. The Devil. How flattering.”
From the other side of the shop, Sable appeared with a tray of glowing crystal vials arranged in perfect symmetry. Her walk was quiet, almost imperceptible against the creaking floorboards—until she set the tray down beside Veronica and arched an eyebrow.
“You left the satchel open last night,” she said. “Something small and fast got out.”
Veronica sighed.
“It always wants moonlight.”
“It took a spoon and the leftover cream scone.”
Juniper sat up slightly.
“That was mine.”
“The scone or the creature?”
“Both.”
The bell above the door chimed low—one soft note—and the first visitor of the day stepped in.
A girl, no more than nineteen, with nervous shoulders and a sketchbook held like armor. She blinked against the amber light. The floor shifted under her like an old sigh.
“I—um. I was told you do aura readings?”
“We do a great many things,” Veronica said warmly.
She gestured to a stool beside the window, where colored light painted halos on the floor. Juniper tossed the girl a wrapped caramel from the jar near the register. It caught midair, hovered for a second, and then dropped softly into her hand.
“For the nerves,” he said with a wink. “Or sugar. Same thing, really.”
The girl smiled.
Veronica snapped the Polaroid camera off its hook and adjusted the lens.
The air thickened around the girl’s shoulders, shimmering faintly like heat on pavement.
With a soft whir and click, the camera captured a flash of violet and gold that bloomed like breath against paper.
Veronica turned the photo as it developed. The aura shimmered along the edge—hope and grief braided tightly.
“You’re not as lost as you think,” she said gently, handing it over.
She left with her shoulders an inch higher and the photo tucked carefully into her pocket.
At two-thirteen, the incense corner tried to ignite itself. Juniper extinguished it with a sarcastic handwave and a muttered curse in a language only she understood.
At three, a lost tooth from the “Accidental Enchantments” drawer began chanting bad knock-knock jokes until Sable slipped it into a jar of mint jelly and sealed the lid.
At four, an elderly woman traded a memory of her first kiss for a vial labeled First Snowfall, Distilled. She left humming a melody they hadn’t heard in years.
By dusk, the tea was steeped stronger and the candlelight thickened. The record switched to something slow and wordless, echoing like a heartbeat through water.
Sable sat at the counter, sketching star maps in her ledger. Juniper had resumed his place in the reading nook, a book open on his chest, though he hadn’t turned the page in half an hour.
Veronica stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching the street grow soft with lamplight.
“It was a quiet day,” she said softly.
“We only had two attempted hauntings and one possessed comb,” Juniper replied. “Truly, a miracle.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Sable said without looking up.
Veronica smiled, eyes half-lidded, head tilted to the wind.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “Let the strange wait for tomorrow.”
Elysium exhaled—quiet, alive, and full of stories waiting for the right hands.
I love this! All three of you rockstars are credited--how does the collaboration work? Do you each take a section, or is it more of a shared brainstorm and revision process?