The Past is a Good Place

When the "General Store" opened in our neighbourhood no-one really seemed to notice.

Sitting squat on a corner block, it was a throwback to a bygone era. Nowadays everyone shopped in multi-tiered malls and massive broad-laned supermarkets. In contrast, this place was small and quaint. Inside, it resembled an antique store — but everything looked new, and the prices were of the day.

Cheap!

What's the catch?

Must be imitations.

So cheap, however, that it was worth the risk.

Surprisingly, the goods were of superior quality — far better than the pathetic rubbish available to supermarket buyers.

Word spread.

Clientele increased.

The little General Store developed a roaring trade.

Items flew off the shelves faster than they could be restocked.

A millipedal queue of eager shoppers stretched for blocks.

News about the General Store spread. Authentic goods from the past for crazy old-fashioned prices.

Conspiracy theories arose: where do these goods come from?

Is it a money laundering enterprise by criminal organisations?

Is it a top secret government experiment? Are we being poisoned?

Is it an alien invasion?

Or perhaps a rip in the fabric of the space-time continuum?

Nobody knew. Not even the owners, who also managed the General Store. They were of a bygone era too: squat and quaint, greeting all customers with cheery, apple-cheeked smiles.

What was known, however, was that the shopping malls became quiet and deserted, with only a few lazy dawdlers ambling about. Giant supermarkets sat stark and glossy, but no-one cared to step inside. They tried slashing prices, but the people weren't interested in their poor-quality, down-sized goods at any price.

Consumers weren't stupid after all. They knew a good thing when they saw it, and the General Store was full of goodness.

Sure, they liked a bargain. Who doesn't? But there were no bargains in absolute trash.

Meanwhile the General Store thrived.

Something had to be done to rectify the situation, bring back order, and bring back patrons to where they belonged.

Then, one day, the General Store was no more. In its place black timbers jutted ugly from charred remains.

Solemn crowds stood around the smoking pyre.

Sad, then angry. Who could do such a terrible thing to our General Store?!

The mob raged, turned vigilante, trawled the streets throwing rocks and debris, brawling, and vandalising.

The next day all had settled down, and people returned to the shopping malls and supermarkets.

A bulldozer cleaned the block where the General Store once stood proud, and a "For Sale" sign was planted.

All evidence of the General Store was gone.

By next week all was forgotten

Did it even exist at all?

No-one is really sure anymore.

One thing is certain:

The past is a good place...

...to shop.