The day started like any other Saturday morning, with rain casting the town in a dark gray haze. The rain was steady but light as I made my way down the sparse streets of the town. I hummed a random tune as I twirled the umbrella, hopping from puddle to puddle, splashing rainwater on my pants. Saturday mornings always put me in a good mood. It is the one day a week I can visit my favorite place in the world, an old bookstore. The old brick building shows its age compared to the modern shops surrounding it.

Shaking the water off the umbrella as I stop in front of the bookstore and open the heavy wooden doors to another century that is the store's interior, engulfing me in a warm, welcoming embrace. Standing at the store entrance, I looked around as a strange feeling came over me, a light electrical charge in my fingertips. I quickly brushed it off, sticking the wet umbrella in my bag that hangs loosely off my shoulder, and made my way down the many aisles of worn vintage books. The smell of old paper is prominent in the air as I inhale deeply, enjoying the smell of it all. I could not shake the feeling of static that hung around me, making a mental note that the atmosphere felt different today.

The old bookstore had always been my escape, but today, it felt different, almost magical. This bookstore has always had a magical feeling; it was part of its charm, but this was different, more physical in a sense. Picking a book from the shelves and scanning the cover before opening and flicking through the thin yellow pages, spotting hand-drawn pictures of plants along with the plant's descriptions. Balancing the book in one hand as I used the other to brush my hair behind my ear, I thought I saw something in the corner of my eye looking in the same direction, wondering if anyone else was here. Closing the book and placing it back on the shelf, I followed where I thought I had seen something move. As I made my way deeper into the store, a place I rarely ventured to, I continued to see things in the corner of my eyes, but when I turned my head to get a better look, whatever it could be was already gone; nothing can move that fast, right?

A low muttering could be heard as I got closer to the back of the store. Timidly moving around a corner of the last shelving, I found a scene that should not have been possible; flying books whizzed from everywhere around the store, almost smacking me in the face if I hadn't moved at the last second. I stared at what I was witnessing: a man sitting at a long table surrounded by piles of books as he mumbled to himself, reading from a large book. Walking up to the table, dodging books along the way, a few hit me, making them fall to the floor, where they lay stunned before getting back up and continuing their previous path.

"Uh… Hello?" The man doesn't answer and continues to frantically read from the book he is currently hunched over. Shuffling my feet back and forth, wringing my fingers together from the awkwardness I began to feel at that moment, maybe he didn't hear me? I leaned over the table and gave the man's shoulder a few gentle taps. In doing so, the man jerks up, knocking books to the floor. Startled by his fast, jerky movements I t, rip over my feet, but I was able to catch myself before I could fall. Back on steady feat, I stared wide-eyed at the man for a minute, the dim lighting obscuring his features.

"What are you doing here," realizing I was there, he frantically started cleaning the books around him, grabbing a book in mid-air as it was floating by trying to hide the fact that the books had been flying around the bookstore. "You're not supposed to be here. The store is closed for the day." He steps out from around the table, rushes over to me, and proceeds to usher me out of the store with his hand on my

shoulder. "you should leave."

My mind swirled with what I witnessed; I had difficulty processing it all, along with the many questions bouncing around my skull. Digging my heels into the carpet, stopping us abruptly, I turned around to face

this strange, pushy man. "What was that? This isn't really a bookstore, is it," I wasn't leaving until I got some answers.

He lets out a deep sigh, glancing around the room and thinking of how to word his following sentence, "this may be a bookstore on the outside, but on the inside, it is far more than that. This place is a

sanctuary to all magical beings," the man paused, strutting over to a nearby shelf and pulling out a book. As it started to glow in his hands, the book changed from a fabric-torn cover to a dark red leather that looked brand new, gasping at the sight, quickly covering my mouth from embarrassment. I was frozen on the spot. He glanced over at me and then back to the book, gently placing it back in its spot as it turned back to the original cover. "Most humans can't see the magic side of the store, so please keep this a secret." He was pleading with me; our eyes met again; I could see the fear behind them, fear of what would happen to this store if word ever got out about it being magic. I know how people can get when it comes to things that are different, breaking eye contact; I take in the store around me, just noticing the many out-of-place objects that wouldn't make sense in a regular bookstore, like the many ancient-looking vases, glass jars with questionable liquids, and the many paper scrolls that are scattered here and there around the store, but this isn't a regular bookstore. I had always felt this place contained magic; I never knew that feeling would be true.