They were almost at their hotel when they decided to explore one more alley. The afternoon light painted shadows on cracked asphalt and colored the buildings sepia-toned.
How apt, Barbara thought, for an antique shop.
Phrenology skulls stared blankly through incongruous shades. Ancient radios stood amidst forgotten family photographs.
“Shall we check it out?”
Avigdor shuddered. “I feel watched.”
Barbara’s arm hairs raised at the thought. Or was it more? She giggled, a bit too loudly. They wouldn’t, would they? Not all the way here?
Avigdor turned to leave. The neon glasses blinked.
“Won’t you come in?” a skull voiced.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt: © Roger Bultot