The magic store

I never actually entered that store. And yet, having stood in front of it for many, many hours since childhood and also dreaming a lot there later, let my thoughts run wild. I often forgot whether it was raining over me, the sun was shining, maybe even snowing. With big children's eyes have I amazed the brass button, that emblazoned round the front door, yes, but more than just admired, almost adored him, because it seemed so golden to me. And yet I never dared, I don't really know why, to really touch him once.

However, for someone who may not know the store that well, makes it from the outside, looking only at the façade, a rather sober impression; basically, I have to admit, his appearance was pretty banal. His shop windows consisted of only two showcases, both about the same size, but mostly empty on both sides of the front door. Only sometimes was there an old non-seller. But early on, well before my own time, they had been covered with a fine cloth, that seemed black and wonderfully soft to fill in completely. The calm and orderly arrangement of these two glass showcases contrasted very much with the poor walls under a damaged roof, which taken together dominated by far the shabby impression of the whole store.

But it was the dark monotony of those showcases that radiated something noble, indeed comforting for me; it always had a very calming effect in all this decline, which not only grasped that store in such a strange way, but even kept it clutched on all sides. And sometimes, the impression did not leave me, as if this decay is happening particularly quickly here, in the vicinity of the magic store, almost like a time-lapse. Dust had settled everywhere on the paths. It seems to be attached to everything. One is constantly tempted to shake it out of the clothes. It never goes. The air whirs milky from what is falling from the façades, blowing down from the roofs. Even if you grind your teeth, you feel that dust involuntarily.

But the actual magic store remained unaffected from that. There is a narrow area there, which is above the glass showcases, under the masonry where the plaster has mostly fallen off. But from the rest of the premises the showcases are carefully separated by a cover. Above its black cloth shone an opening, it is protected by a precious, bluish-shimmering glass, actually only the brighter. In other words: through that gap you could take a shy look into the inside of the store, into the most intimate; to catch at least a little of the whole happening, the mysterious hustle and bustle!

On wide counters, which you cannot prove clearly, but that can be assumed with some certainty; - the sellers are not recognizable either, because they are covered by the masonry on the far left and right, - however, you can see heads above the glass showcases moving constantly. They slide back and forth as if they were terribly nervous, driven by something. You can't see the rest of their bodies. But apparently they're all pretty much the same size.

They seem very harassed, also to be afraid of something, yes, they often look quite scared. But I don't know really why. In all those years however, as long as I have been looking at the façade of the magic store, I have never actually seen anyone come in through the front door, nor did anyone get out. So one can only presume, there is another gate.

Although I don’t know the reason and I can't really explain it physically; but those heads are from mighty spotlights, - which were attached on both sides, but you can never recognize them, - being illuminated practically from every side, and with an effect that seems almost in perspective, and beamed so skilfully, that it seems, as if those heads, and this constantly, all of the time, even if they move, are illuminated from within, yes, shining out of themselves, being completely transparent.

So you look into their heads, even through them, like an aquarium. Numerous objects are being visible in there, including words and numbers in clear outlines. At first of course, I thought of a typical self-deception. But I came every day, and the heads appeared to me that way, no, on the contrary, things in them only got clearer and clearer over the time. And slowly I saw distinctly what is happening in those heads: They love to throw at the others numbers. They answer again in numbers; so it shows up exactly in their heads. Then you may see a building, a skyscraper, or farms, trees, even individual people, sometimes there are many. But they can easily take them out of their heads, because that works wonderfully, they fly out of it, another then snaps them up, but not with their arms, you never see them, no, with their mouth alone and razor-sharp teeth. So they devour all objects in no time, but always as a miniature, adapted to their own head size. So they eat every thing, they literally feasting on it and closing their eyes in delight. And that's why you can see exactly what they eat and how they destroy it. They basically eat everything. Their diet is the whole world.

But it could also be, at least it cannot be excluded, because they are so schematic and rigid in their movements that someone has put the heads on stones, giant hewn stones, like their own gravestones, which someone constantly moves back and forth. Regardless of whether the heads are wide or narrow, they sometimes move very much, rock abruptly back and forth, nod and rock as if in prayer. This rythm keeps in the background a huge magic wand. Everyone knows its name. And yet the heads desperately try to break themselves off the gravestone with all their might, even violence. One day they fall to the floor, which they couldn't see themselves. Her stone was simply too big. The bottom of the magic store has long been covered with their heads, is over and over filled with them.

I was more than astonished, almost adored, because of the brass button that emblazoned round the front door, because it seemed so golden to me. And yet I never dared, I don't really know why, to really touch him.