The Artisan at Glimmerville

“Oh it’s perfect! Thank you so much!” The sea nymph cried, holding the necklace up to the light so that she could see the play of blues and greens against the silver. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Just send me things that you think I’d like – stones, shells, coins, scraps, anything. Mail them to the Artisan at Glimmerville. They’ll arrive.” She chuckled, pulling a starfish out of her hair, and leading the sea nymph to Glimmerville’s front shop door. The Artisan closed and locked the door, her job here complete, and with a sigh felt the water draining, the stone floor turning back to wood, her own gills vanishing. Glimmerville became whatever it was needed, when the doors were open. But once locked, it was her own shop again, and as familiar as her own daydreams.

The Artisan warmed her (now dry) robes by the fire for a moment, glad at its return, then went down the hallway, to the library on the left. Strange she thought Is Glimmerville budding a new room? That hallway seemed longer than usual. What are you up to, old girl? She plucked a book from a shelf (with the passing, wistful thought that another library would be nice) and went back to her bedroom, happily remembering the joy on the nymph’s face, and wondering where they would end up next.

In the morning she would unlock the door, onto sea or space, cave or sky, and see where they wound up next. They always ended up where they were needed, though sometimes with a few tweaks to fit the environment. She took it as a matter of course, and was more interested in what charmed necklace a dragon would want than what size the shop had to become to accomodate it in the front door.

She couldn’t wait for tomorrow.  {More to come.}
{Feel free to email theartisan [!at] – and check out my Etsy shop, which has been – and will continue to be – undergoing renovation. Nearly each item has a story to tell, you see… if you ask the Artisan.}

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