2021-01-29 - From Beyond the Veil

Elias Weber unlocked the front door of the shuttered building, having been closed for the last several months and stepped inside. He flicked on the light switch but left the "CLOSED" sign clearly visible to the outside. It was exactly as he'd left it when he'd asked his general manager to look after things for the family while he was doing his research. He'd had no idea how long he'd be gone when he left -- since he didn't know where he was going or how, for that matter. It felt like an entire lifetime ago -- and in a way, it had been.

He took a few steps inside, running his fingertips over the counter. Dust. The whole place would need a cleaning before reopening. At least it had only been six months here. It could have been much, much worse. He set the messenger bag slung over his shoulder down on the counter and began a slow walk around the place, reacquainting himself with its familiar shelves and the books on them. He ran his fingertips along the spines of a few, until he came to one particular set and stopped. Pulling the book from the shelf he turned it over to look at the image of the author on the other side. He spent some time, just looking at that image, running his thumb lightly along the jawline of the picture before setting it back on the shelf.

Moving toward the back room, he opened it up and looked around. Inventory, all neatly put away. Bless her for having taken care of that for him. He wouldn't need to try and find months old invoices and packing slips amdist everything else to sort it all out. Closing the door, he made his way back to the front of the shop and slowly climbed the steps up to the Occult section, looking at the glass cases with their esoteric volumes, the whole crystal gazing metaphysical section, the collection of actual genuine books of lore tucked among the herbal remedies and ritual magick guides. He crouched in front of the glass cases for a moment, studying the covers of the books there, before straightening once more and making his way over to the couch in the lounge area.

He fell into the couch the way that he had so many times before. It felt the same, and yet alien, as he lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence within the shop, the very faint sound of traffic outside. He'd been in the Veil so long, so very long, and now this, his life, felt like the Dream, the unfamiliar. He caught his own reflection in the glass cases -- older. He looked older than he had when he left. It wasn't the same reflection he was used to seeing in those glass panes, but it was his. It had been his for some time now.

The house had been quiet, too. His room had been there, just the same as when he'd left. His cousins still came and left, his cousins, his aunts and uncles. That hadn't changed at all. In fact, they hadn't even seemed all that surprised when he'd turned back up after having vainished for six months. Of course, he wasn't the first, nor would he be the last Weber to do so. The Glimmer took the Webers places, sometimes quite without their by your leave. They'd welcomed him back, fed him, and then given him his space, before the key to the shop was left on his bedside table, a silent reminder that life carried on, and that it was time that he get back to it.

The various voicemails and emails from his publisher were less kind. Fortunately, he'd had someone to handle that, too. And while she wasn't thrilled with the fact that he had gone on walkabout, she was glad to know that he was back. The book he'd finished in the spring right before he'd left had been published and was doing well. All she really wanted to know was -- did he have an idea for the next one, and when could she expect to see something. Typical.

Elias lay on the couch in the silent closed book shop and stared at the ceiling. He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it. It had gone dead a long time ago in the Veil, and he hadn't read all the messages that were in it when he'd gotten back, not yet. Turning it on, he looked at the screen for a few moments, and then dropped it onto his chest, letting it go dark again. He knew there were people that he should contact, things that he should say, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was lie still in the silence.

Tomorrow, he would clean the shop, and open the doors, and put up a help wanted sign.

Tomorrow, he'd try to put a few words down for a new story.

Tomorrow, he'd reach out to a few people and make some apologies.

But for now, he would close his eyes and fall asleep, hopefully not to Dream.