Destiny vs Determination

Aydar stepped into the bookstore, careful to close the door quickly to avoid snow from following him in. After shaking the soft powder out his coat, he headed for the farthest corner of the small dusty bookstore. He slowly combed through the books on the shelves, but it seemed impossible to find any material on psychology. Although, that may be attributed to his state of mind rather than the bookstore’s catalog. He’d intended to buy a new psychology book, yet his mind kept drifting back to the package that had been placed in his arms just days before.

The package, a small brown box devoid of a return address or distinct markings, contained a pocket watch who’s rusting exterior did little to hide the intricate pattern of roses etched on the back. Aydar, who could always find an answer, had no answer for this.

“May I help you?”

Aydar spun around, startled by the voice coming from the front of the bookstore. He turned around to see a women in her late 40’s standing behind the desk. “I’m looking for literature on psychology,” he responded, slowly approaching the desk.

“You must be the new psychology teacher at Columbia Public High School,” she said, extending a hand out in greeting. “I’m Jessica Barnes, the owner of this bookstore. Don’t worry, in small towns like this no one can leave or enter without the whole town knowing. Seems invasive at first, but may actually be endearing.”

Aydar grinned, feeling less like a part of the crowd than he had in many years. “I’m still getting used to the small town atmosphere.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find your place soon enough.”

Aydar shook his head. He’d always found the concept of roles and destiny to be purely wishful thinking. “Well, until then I may just stay in here,” he replied.

“I’m not really looking for boarders and besides, there’s plenty to do around here.”

“For instance?”

“Why don’t you visit the National Museum of Cutlery,” said Jessica, handing Aydar a brochure.

Aydar glanced down at the brochure. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the spoon on the front cover.

“Just some old spoon; if you’re searching for real artifacts you may want to move back to New York. Still, the Museum is a good step to understanding our ‘small town atmosphere.’”

Aydar nodded, his mind focused on the rose-etched spoon that looked very familiar.

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