Crystals …

I have recently become very enthralled by crystals, after they were introduced to me. I used them as an inspiration for this piece.  

His eyes glazed over the glass case. It had been a good few years since he had held a crystal in his hand, that he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, until he had his nose pressed up right against the glass.

The quartz crystal, shone brilliantly despite the low lighting in the second hand shop. The reflection cast a pallor on the surrounding shelf,  bathing the chipped tea cups, and silver spoons in light.

The sprightly shop attendant walked over to him; looking at him cautiously. Tom stepped back from the case as she approached. He thought that perhaps he seemed a little to eager, and his eyes had been flexing towards the cabinet door since he glanced upon the stone.
“Can I help you, Sir?” She asked politely. The young woman, was dressed rather peculiarly, in dark trousers, odd socks and an over-sized jumper; but oddly she matched the interior of the shop more so than Tom did, with his tailored suit.
“I’m just looking at the Crystal Quartz you have in the cabinet.”
“Oh … the clear rock thing?”
He rolled his eyes ,and looked away from the girl. He was sure she would be of little help, except to quote a price. Tom, who had been taking a break from work, had been walking up and down the streets of Little Venice looking for a new interesting place to eat lunch. Little did he expect, when he was crossing the bridge over the river, that his attention would turn to a shabby looking second hand shop, that had recently opened in the corner.
Tom had worked in Little Venice for a long time. He was fortunate enough to land his dream job straight out of university, and had been working in the finance department of Bruce and Wayne for the best part of 4 years.

The job was steady, with good money and benefits. It allowed Tom to have a plush flat, a comfortable lifestyle, to be seen as a well to do man, and respected member of society.  He had very little to complain about, and neither did his proud parents. They had recently come in from the countryside to visit. They had strolled the streets of London, ate at fancy restaurants and drunk ridiculously over priced cups of coffee. His father had boisterously told anyone who would listen that his son was working for Bruce and Wayne.
Everything about him, from his clothes to his job, would ordinarily scream for him to stay away from a shabby shop like the one he was in. The light perfumed smoke from incense sticks were already clinging to his hair and suit fibers, but he reveled in it.  It had been so long since his nostrils had been intoxicated with such perfumery.
His hands twitched slightly towards the cabinet door again. His gaze rested on the small quartz. The last time he had held one in his hand, he had used it to draw away a great evil.

It seemed like a simpler time, despite the pain and heartache. Tom had originally become very interested in crystals in high school. The other boys thought it was weird, but the girls in his class loved it, often asking him about the properties of different stones. One girl in particular showed a keen interest in his skills. Her name was Meghan Morgana.
All the way up to his college days he had been a keen crystal healer. He would practice after school, and was often asked to help out regularly at the summer fetes. He was never serious about crystals, and always saw it as a past time hobby until the day he met Meghan’s mother.
A strange sensation passed up his spine, and a prominent ringing grew louder in his ear as he thought of her. He cocked his head closer to the crystal, quite sure he was meant to pick it up. It was then that his phone rang, breaking his concentration. He pulled out his phone, and stared down at the screen. It was work. He absentmindedly pressed the green button to hear his boss jack on the other end.
“Tom…Shit has just hit the fan. The fucking Yanks have changed the schedule. We need you back,mate.” Tom heard the stress in his voice. Automatically, almost intuitively he thought that Jack could do with a fifteen minute healing session.
He shook the thought from his head as he replied. “On my way.”

As Tom, left briskly from the shop, the young sale’s girl who adorned a strange array of clothes watched him go. Her eyes had been on him, for the most time, but she stared more intently, watching him stride quickly towards the great grey building where ll the offices were.
She picked up the old vintage dial up phone from the counter, just as Tom disappeared through the swiveling doors, and dialed a number.
She hesitated as she awaited a reply. It had been a strange turn of events…. She had not expected the gentlemen to walk through the door.
“Yes.” A rasping voice came from the other end.
“You said we needed a powerful healer, right?” She said excitedly.
There was a pause. The voice waited.
“I think I’ve found someone.”

 

 

 

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