On an unusually quiet afternoon, a stranger parked in front of Mort’s Curiosities in a brand new red and white 1965 Stingray. He entered the shop looking for something unusual. He wore city clothes, a suit, and a tie, wasn’t friendly, and did not stop to chat with the antique dealer. Instead, he walked around the store, looking at curiosities, moving past ancient lamps, Chinese urns, sewing supplies, Russian eggs, tea kettles, trunks, and clocks. He stopped next to an Egyptian Sarcophagus, noticing a silver dial shaped like a star on the outside. Twisting it, the gears tumbled inside. Canisters of gas released within the tomb and the mummy moved. The key fell into the stranger’s hand who quickly pocketed it.

“Can I interest you in any curiosities?” Mort asked.

“I’m not curious about anything in your store,” replied the stranger in a nasty voice.

Mort had met thousands of visitors in the last year, knowing he would eventually meet an unfriendly one. “Oh well,” he thought. “I guess some people aren’t impressed by antiques.”

The stranger stepped out of Mort’s Curiosities and drove away.

Mort sighed, “Like my antiques, a good story only happens every hundred years.”

How wrong he was when the lid of the Egyptian Sarcophagus slid open.

The End


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