For Love of Magic | The Shop Opens

The Shop Opens

Book of Shadows | Journal | Entry 1 | Saturday | Summer

I just finished up my first week in the shop. I didn’t think I could be so exhausted, but I didn’t think I would do so well with a new business either. Of course, it wasn’t without its hiccups.

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There’s a smell. I think part of it is the potions, but I think the majority of it is the customers. I have no idea why some of them have decided that deodorant should be optional when making their way through public. In no way am I trying to shame, but my shop is small and there’s little to no air circulation. A full day in a shop with those constant offending odors is enough to make you sick.


Most of the customers are polite, but at the same time, I know who whispers throughout the town about my activities, about my creations, about my heritage. There are many here who disguise their second face, but they don’t disguise it well.


I also find myself amused from time to time at how disgusted they are by what I create, but they buy it nonetheless. They smile to my face, then return to their whispers. They avoid me outside of the shop. I’m not invited anywhere to anything. I’m cast out. But I don’t allow it to make me bitter.


I work hard to brew those potions. I grow my own ingredients, I keep to myself, I have little in the way of friends, and I work on my casting. I love what I do, I try to be a good person, a good neighbor, and a good business owner. Though sometimes when I hear the whispers of gossip about me, it becomes hard to rein in my feelings. At the end of the day, I don’t sink to their level. They still visit my shop. They still buy my potions.


Enough about that though. Most of my wares are depleted so I’ll be spending the weekend away from the shop gathering more ingredients, brewing more potions, and getting ready for the coming week. Maybe once I get used to the routine of running a business, especially a somewhat successful one on my own, I’ll be able to set aside some time to make more of an effort to rub elbows and mingle. Maybe I’ll succeed, maybe I won’t, but I suppose I should still try.

 – Bridget

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