Hesitantly, I flipped the close sign to open, smoothed my apron, and rebraided my hair. The first lights of morning streaked the London sky as I peered out the large window that was decorated with strings of origami cranes and tulips. I had put the tulips and cranes there as a sign of my Japanese heritage and to give the shop a unique look that would intrigue the passing population.
“It is now six o’clock and time to start our first day of business.” I stated loudly enough for my employees to hear. Stumbling out of the back room tiredly, Chris came into view, scratching his massive blonde curly hair. His sky blue eyes blink rapidly, no doubt shaking the remnants of last night’s party from them.
“Oh, it’s time to open already? I thought we had at least another half hour before we had to see people,” said Chris, sighing heavily. He hated having human interaction and that was why I usually made him work in the storage room, taking inventory of things and restocking them as we ran out.
“I know seeing people is dreadful for you Chris, but you do need to see humanity every once in a while. Tell you what, you only have to serve people for two hours today, and then you can go back to sulking in that cave of yours.” I smirked, satisfied at my subtle insult.
“What am I, a bear? It’s not my cave. It’s just a place I’m more comfortable with, okay?” He walked away without an answer leaving me to wait in anticipation for our first customer.
“Hey boss. Have you put out the chalk board?” Sophie, my younger sister, was holding up a chalk board that stood like an easel while attempting to keep Ursula, my teacup pig, from running into the streets.
“Uh…not yet. Could you do it for me? Make it say: ‘Wonderland: Now Open.’ Does that have a nice ring to it?” I looked at my sister expectantly.
“Sure, Yoko. I’ll do that right now. You should feed this pig or take her for a walk. She is antsy.” Sophie left the shop, set up the black board and started to write in her elegant cursive penmanship. My sister and I were similar to a degree. We both had black hair; mine was to my waist while hers was cut in a stylish bob. We both had our father’s dark brown eyes; had inherited a British accent, despite our mother’s Asian origins; and we were both short, bordering on 5’3”, but that’s where the similarities ended.
My sister was into indie movies, rock music, sports, that type of thing. She was quite a tom boy. I, on the other hand, was almost the complete opposite. I loved playing the violin and piano, very delicate instruments, and was an expert at both; Sophie liked to play guitar and was starting to learn to play the drums. I was a very avid reader; I loved mysteries the best; whereas Sophie hardly ever read. She liked writing better. I can’t understand how she could have one without the other. We did both love animals, almost to a fault. The little pig had been a birthday present from Sophie.
I picked up the little black ball that was Ursula and clipped a leash to her collar. “Come on you. Let’s have a turn about the block,” Ursula’s hooves clip-clopped on the hardwood floor as we left the shop. Stepping outside, I breathed the cool London air with excitement. Today was a new day, a day that could be a success with ease.
The streets were filled with people who were heading to work or a diner to have breakfast. If I was lucky, some of the people would stop by our shop. I took in the sights around me with a sense of pride. I loved London and Baker Street was my favorite place in the whole city, excluding Buckingham Palace, of course. While reminiscing on my visit to Buckingham Palace, I had focused my attention somewhere else than the pavement in front of me, ran right into the person in front of me and fell to the ground. The person turned around, startled, and I was surprised to realize it was a man.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, looking him in the eye. He was probably about 5’7”, wore a tan sweater with a white collar peeking out, worn-in jeans, and some brown leather loafers. He had faded brown hair and dark blue eyes that made my heart stop beating temporarily.
“That’s fine,” he smiled warmly and helped me up. His hands were soft, warm, and strong.
“That’s an interesting pet you’ve got there.” He said, gesturing to Ursula with a laugh.
“Thanks. She’s a teacup pig. Her name’s Ursula. She’s a nuisance sometimes.” We both laughed nervously. I could tell that he thought I was pretty; he kept looking at my soft pink lips every other word.
“I’m Yoko Johnson,” I told him, reaching out my hand to shake his.
“John Watson,” he said, returning the hand shake. “Would you like to get some coffee?” He asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“I’d love to. There’s this coffee and pastry shop that just opened just down there,” I answered, pointing in the direction of the shop.
“Sounds great.” I took the lead, being the one who knew where the shop was. I had only gone about fifty feet from the shop so it took no time at all to get back.
“It is now six o’clock and time to start our first day of business.” I stated loudly enough for my employees to hear. Stumbling out of the back room tiredly, Chris came into view, scratching his massive blonde curly hair. His sky blue eyes blink rapidly, no doubt shaking the remnants of last night’s party from them.
“Oh, it’s time to open already? I thought we had at least another half hour before we had to see people,” said Chris, sighing heavily. He hated having human interaction and that was why I usually made him work in the storage room, taking inventory of things and restocking them as we ran out.
“I know seeing people is dreadful for you Chris, but you do need to see humanity every once in a while. Tell you what, you only have to serve people for two hours today, and then you can go back to sulking in that cave of yours.” I smirked, satisfied at my subtle insult.
“What am I, a bear? It’s not my cave. It’s just a place I’m more comfortable with, okay?” He walked away without an answer leaving me to wait in anticipation for our first customer.
“Hey boss. Have you put out the chalk board?” Sophie, my younger sister, was holding up a chalk board that stood like an easel while attempting to keep Ursula, my teacup pig, from running into the streets.
“Uh…not yet. Could you do it for me? Make it say: ‘Wonderland: Now Open.’ Does that have a nice ring to it?” I looked at my sister expectantly.
“Sure, Yoko. I’ll do that right now. You should feed this pig or take her for a walk. She is antsy.” Sophie left the shop, set up the black board and started to write in her elegant cursive penmanship. My sister and I were similar to a degree. We both had black hair; mine was to my waist while hers was cut in a stylish bob. We both had our father’s dark brown eyes; had inherited a British accent, despite our mother’s Asian origins; and we were both short, bordering on 5’3”, but that’s where the similarities ended.
My sister was into indie movies, rock music, sports, that type of thing. She was quite a tom boy. I, on the other hand, was almost the complete opposite. I loved playing the violin and piano, very delicate instruments, and was an expert at both; Sophie liked to play guitar and was starting to learn to play the drums. I was a very avid reader; I loved mysteries the best; whereas Sophie hardly ever read. She liked writing better. I can’t understand how she could have one without the other. We did both love animals, almost to a fault. The little pig had been a birthday present from Sophie.
I picked up the little black ball that was Ursula and clipped a leash to her collar. “Come on you. Let’s have a turn about the block,” Ursula’s hooves clip-clopped on the hardwood floor as we left the shop. Stepping outside, I breathed the cool London air with excitement. Today was a new day, a day that could be a success with ease.
The streets were filled with people who were heading to work or a diner to have breakfast. If I was lucky, some of the people would stop by our shop. I took in the sights around me with a sense of pride. I loved London and Baker Street was my favorite place in the whole city, excluding Buckingham Palace, of course. While reminiscing on my visit to Buckingham Palace, I had focused my attention somewhere else than the pavement in front of me, ran right into the person in front of me and fell to the ground. The person turned around, startled, and I was surprised to realize it was a man.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, looking him in the eye. He was probably about 5’7”, wore a tan sweater with a white collar peeking out, worn-in jeans, and some brown leather loafers. He had faded brown hair and dark blue eyes that made my heart stop beating temporarily.
“That’s fine,” he smiled warmly and helped me up. His hands were soft, warm, and strong.
“That’s an interesting pet you’ve got there.” He said, gesturing to Ursula with a laugh.
“Thanks. She’s a teacup pig. Her name’s Ursula. She’s a nuisance sometimes.” We both laughed nervously. I could tell that he thought I was pretty; he kept looking at my soft pink lips every other word.
“I’m Yoko Johnson,” I told him, reaching out my hand to shake his.
“John Watson,” he said, returning the hand shake. “Would you like to get some coffee?” He asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“I’d love to. There’s this coffee and pastry shop that just opened just down there,” I answered, pointing in the direction of the shop.
“Sounds great.” I took the lead, being the one who knew where the shop was. I had only gone about fifty feet from the shop so it took no time at all to get back.
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