Unveiling the Cursed Secrets Within Rickey Pittman’s Haunted Book of Shadows
Late one afternoon, on the day before All Saints Eve, a man entered the store, a leather valise in his hand.
“Welcome, sir, to the Antiquarian! Can I help you find something?”
“No, sir,” he replied. “You probably don’t remember me, but a few years ago I regularly frequented your store. Of course, that was years before…”
I waited for him to complete his sentence, but when he seemed to be stalled in thought, I pointed to a table and said, “Please, take a seat and I’ll bring you a cup of tea. You can tell me what books you might be interested in. Perhaps an ancient manuscript or letter? I have many I can show you in my catalogue.”
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