Second Chances (flash fiction)
Funky shirts, paperbacks, toys, coffee mugs: a chaotic mess.
“Whoever says they want to run a second-hand store when they grow up?” Lucas grumbled.
“Someone,” Claire said, “who likes second chances. We’re on our, what, fifth?”
At least this chaotic mess stayed in one place. Good after years of the tempting glint of golden schemes—from his vacuum cleaner/blender invention to his stand-up comedy/magician act. Unfortunately, that glint never got closer than the horizon.
This gold was tarnished, but it was warm and close: in the well-worn shoes comfier than those freshly factory hatched. And it was in the customers who came in to chat and sometimes bought something.
A little bit over the 100-word limit; my story clocks in at 110 words.