Meet Me At Mary’s Place by Sreejita Biswas

He always had three legs, none shorter than the other two. In the corner of the room he stood in silence, year after year, gathering dust, like most of the other furniture in the old bookstore. Nestled in a quiet, dark alley, not too far from the bright lights of the main city, the little old store remained forgotten. Overwhelmed by the newer, brighter and bigger aisles of the glossy books of fiction and non-fiction, when the shop faded into the background, no one knew. No one knew when it shut down, no one knew how many days, months or years passed by and no one knew of the worn leather bound books lying around there in silence, gathering dust… the pages yellowing as days went by and some, crumbling to dust.

No one knew, apart from little old Tom who lived across the street. Little old Tom, as old as the store, as wise as the books, with eyes that saw perfectly and teeth that gleamed when he smiled. Little old Tom and his little old toys. With the crooked legs and the bells, with the hand-made clothes and the paint that never could be worn out. Little old Tom, who sat in his over-sized chair each night and smoked his well-worn pipe. Like the book store, Little old Tom lived in a world that was forgotten in the city of lights and life.

Every night, Little old Tom would sit in the chair, next to his window and watch the yellow lights cast shadows here and there. He would see cars and bikes zooming past the house, he would see drunks spray paint messages on walls, he would see young people in love walk by, hand in hand, occasionally stopping to peer through the rusty bars of book store and share the inevitable moment and sometimes, a kiss.

This one night, Tom sat and looked at the yellow light spill through the rusted bars that closed that little haven of stories from the world. He peered at the dusty glass windows and wondered why no drunk had ever stoned it to bits. He could see the street lamp light up the little three legged table he had once, rather long ago, made for Mary, and he wondered what happened to her.